The last of all problems 2: the end of evolution
by Chrono cross maniac
Summary: Here's the sequel to the last of all problems. Chapter 7 uploaded! Sorry for the (very) long wait. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1: A new threat

Disclaimer: "Starcraft, "Starcraft: Brood War" and all related properties are owned by Blizzard Entertainment Inc.  
  
Author's note: This is the sequel to "the last of all problems", and therefore I strongly advise you to read it first, or you won't understand some of the characters and their situations (and for those who have read it, don't be surprised to see new characters).  
  
Prologue  
  
It had been ten years since Arcturus Mengsk's death and the end of the war. Kerrigan's treatment had been a complete success, though she kept a key nerve cord to continue controlling her cerebrates, thus keeping the Swarm under control. Allied with the Protoss and the terrans, she signed an official peace treaty with them. In fact, peace was all that reigned during those ten years. But it will soon be troubled once more.  
  
The last of all problems 2: the end of evolution  
  
Chapter 1: A new threat  
  
Private John Stippler looked at the two people on guard duty with him. He immersed himself in their company. Corporal Dave Moffy, a firebat, lit a cigar, with a slight frown on his face, while ghost agent Terry Lonk hastily spoke up. "I smell fear," he said, "I sense danger."  
  
"Ah, shut up, asshole," Dave answered irritably, "Just play."  
  
Each of them engaged in a little game of deceit and gamble called 'poker'.  
  
"Watch it, Corporal." Terry snapped at him angrily, "I'm still your CO around here, in case you forgot."  
  
"Who cares? You're still an asshole," John joked. He and Dave started to laugh.  
  
Terry's smile disappeared. He didn't like having these two soldiers with him. They were utterly babyish and disrespectful to him. He already felt insulted that a decorated ghost like him would have to baby-sit two inferior and pathetic Dominion soldiers. For the next four weeks, he was stuck with them. Yet the last two days had him feeling like it was two years. This had to be his longest assignment yet. Terry's face was starting to redden, so he quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, what have you got?" He said to Dave.  
  
The brown-eyed firebat smirked and showed his hand. "Three of a kind: all jacks," he declared confidently as he held his cigar in a hand and blew up a cloud of smoke in the air. "You know, I love two things: one, a good cigar and two, a good winning streak." he added as he referred to his five wins and the 300 credits he'd won so far.  
  
Terry grimaced at him for a second. He tried not to cough, and even held his breath as Dave smoked. "Isn' t there a anti-smoking regulation in space, especially if someone is breathing in an artificial atmosphere?" he thought, scratching his head irritably. Then he focused on his cards and then he twisted his lips. "Ha!" he exclaimed, "I got four kings," he said as he slammed his deck on the table, "Beat that, you bunch of losers." he condescendingly added before he coughed and choked in the carbonised cloud. "What.a.about y..," he coughed and coughed, "you...Stippler?"  
  
John chuckled silently, though the nicotine pollution didn't bother him. He checked the time. It was almost time for his resting shift, he noted. He opened his cards and smiled. "Straight flush," he declared and then gestured his hand. "Hand over the money, idiots." he teased.  
  
Terry and Dave couldn't believe it, but they both had myriad reactions. Terry was angry, naturally when insulted, whereas, Dave was pleasantly surprised. He liked the look on Terry's face, squirming. Eventually, Dave handed over the wager to John in gritted teeth for losing 300 credits, yet he didn't lose anything because his winnings compensated it. If Terry was really feeling the pinch when he was the last to hand his DC card before John slid it into a machine, he didn't show it. When John gave him back his card, he saw a stream of cold sweat coming over Terry's forehead. It was unnerving as Terry held a pokerfaced look for a moment. Something was making him uneasy and agitated, emotions that rarely afflicted a ghost like Terry. The man finally wiped out the sweat and suddenly turned to John. "Stippler, go check the command room."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Now! Private!" Terry stated firmly as something in his face told John that he was serious.  
  
"Yes, sir." he replied and then left, dumbfounded.  
  
John ran his hand through the scanners before the command room's door opened and he entered. The room was filled with computers and security monitors. He read the monitors closely and checked the hourly logs. It was clear. Nothing to report and nothing seemed wrong so he turned his heel to exit, as he did that the alarm sounded. "What in the." He studied the wall- size screen and saw a red blink on southern end of the station layout. Adjutant, the station's artificial intelligence computer, magnified the image and three red dots blinked at the nearest air-lock compartment to the storage room.  
  
"Shit!" John cursed and then he thought quickly. "Adjutant," he cried out," seal off all air-lock compartments, now!" Waiting not for a reply, he was gone.  
  
A few moments later, Terry saw John running towards him down the segmented corridor.  
  
"Here, take one," John shouted, tossing him a gauss rifle. He then tossed Dave one as well. "Sorry, man. I can't seem to find your 'Zippo'." he added as he slapped a clip into his canister rifle. Then he broke in with a nervous smile, "I think it's in the store room, Corporal." He blurted as his eyes fixed on checking his rifle and then turned to John.  
  
"Stippler, What did the sensor pick up?"  
  
"Three interlopers." said John.  
  
"How did they come even within 100 clicks? Were their ships detected?" Terry ventured further, hoping to get more information.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"What?" he cried out in disbelief, "Did you look at the security cam?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Okay. Did you at least report to the Mar Sara mission control?"  
  
John didn't because he was just a private. A computer-dummy more like it; he didn't know how to and he wasn't going to admit that even now and risk court martial for it. So he said simply, "No, sir."  
  
"What?" he barked. Terry was starting to get impatient. "What the freakin' hell were you doing there?" His eyes cast a furious look at John.  
  
"Look, sir, they were already in the station when the alarm went off." he said lamely. "I don't think that matters right now." he added.  
  
"It matters, you idiot," he chided him in an explosive voice. His face reddened and he realised that then he sighed. "Christ, we don't even know what we're up against." he said worriedly as he gazed pensively through the window with the planet's surface beyond it. "Anyway, did you seal the air- lock compartments?"  
  
"Yes," answered John wearily.  
  
"Good. That should hold them off - for a while." Terry finished and then turned to Dave instead. "Wait a sec. Where's cigar boy?" he said.  
  
John cursed, "Damn it." He'd just remembered.  
  
"What's the problem?"  
  
"I think he's getting 'Zippo.'"  
  
"So?"  
  
"I think.that's were the section breach is." he declared, his eyes widened, looking at the Ghost operative.  
  
"For Christ's sake, why didn't you say so?"  
  
* * * *  
  
For a long moment, Dave eyed every one of the shelves stacked with supply boxes, until finally he came across "Zippo", his firebat flame-thrower. He stared incredulously at it. "Who's the cow that stacked it up near the ceiling?" he grunted. So, he stacked a few boxes and climbed onto until it was high enough for him to stretch his body to reach for the heavy hellfire weapon. Suddenly, a thunderous explosion rocked the ship and the lights went out. At that moment, the room was in chaos. He heard objects crashing all over the background. It worried him. When the emergency light kicked in, Dave looked up, and the "Zippo" was in his face. He went down quickly and broke his left leg, but it didn't matter; he was already unconscious.  
  
Seconds later, they arrived, Terry and John clad in just their Dominion personnel jackets. They caught first glimpse of the charred and twisted air- lock door. The intruders were inside. They were sure of it, yet they bravely entered inside the compartment, searching for Dave. It was a royal mess all about the place: boxes, food canisters littered all around the floor, yet Dave was nowhere to be seen, and neither were the intruders.  
  
John swore he heard a footstep on his right so he deftly aimed, but there was nothing there except a huge pile of boxes and a flamethrower. "Wait a minute, Dave's Zippo." Terry muttered in surprise, pointing towards the rubble. Inspecting closer, he saw a finger underneath the rubble. "Dave!" he cried out.  
  
Terry then turned to look and saw John straying from him. "John! What in the name of holy are you doing?" he hissed, "Get back here." His green eyes timely caught a blur just beyond the shelves. It was shifting towards John, fast. He quickly aimed at it but then his senses caught up with him again. Another blurry figure was coming at him too. His eyes shifted right in a split second - and confirmed it. "Damn." he cursed. When he wheeled back to John, he gasped. His marine friend was already down - face on the floor.  
  
With a lightning fast reaction, Terry twisted his waist left and jumped to the doorway. His hand deftly slammed onto the door button just before he landed beyond the threshold. Thus the metallic compartment door sealed immediately, and just after it did that something hard impacted at it, leaving a dent on the door.  
  
Eyes widened, Terry panted heavily. He suddenly felt the adrenaline rush again. Yet he got up and jammed the opening mechanism with the rifle butt -- sealing whatever it was inside. As he leaned his hand against the door in respite, a spark ignited behind his neck. As result, his muscles stiffened, and he lost consciousness. His legs gave away and he collapsed rigidly on the ground.  
  
* * * *  
  
Jim Raynor sat in his chair, happy. The last ten years had made him a joyful man: The now fully-treated Kerrigan and him were married and even had a child, there was a definite peace between the terrans, protoss and zerg, not to mention his new position, obtained on that fateful day ten years ago...  
  
**Flashback (A long one)**  
  
It was the day after Mengsk's death. Raynor was on a diplomatic meeting with Mengsk's generals.  
  
Raynor spoke: "I don't give a damn about your apologies!!! Do you seriously think I'm gonna trust you?"  
  
One of the generals, a blond-haired, severe-looking man, said: "But what do you propose? I don't think you want a war anymore than we do."  
  
"I know that, but I won't sign a treaty with you. A treaty can be broken. No, here's what we're going to do: We'll implant one of my guys as the next Emperor. That way, we'll be sure there'll be no betrayal."  
  
The generals scowled: "This is madness!" One of them said, "We'll never accept it. Who do you think you are?"  
  
Raynor answered: "Someone who has bigger cards than you. Namely, the Protoss and the Zerg. Reconsider, 'gentlemen', or you'll regret it. You got 4 hours." Raynor then stood up and left the Conference Room.  
  
Everyone was stunned. There was a brief moment of silence. The blond-haired general finally said, hesitantly: "Well, we don't have much choice."  
  
The one at his left added: "I agree. We should avoid conflict in this matter - at all cost."  
  
"But," another general said, "What proves to us that he really could get the Protoss and the Zerg to attack us? It could just be empty threats," he added. "for all we know, gentlemen." The general was then taken in surprise.  
  
A loud and irritable voice snapped, "Do you really want to take that risk? Raynor's been with the Protoss since even before the Brood War. Not only that, but he's a rather, um, intimate friend of the Queen of Blades, from what I've heard. Not to mention that his leadership qualities are not to be ignored. There is no doubt in my mind that he's too dangerous to mess with." the blond-haired general stated firmly. Then, his hands clenched tightly together on the table, as if he was going to make an important announcement. He suddenly stood up from his seat. "Gentlemen," he started in a serious voice, his eyes looking at everyone. "Who among you agrees to accept Raynor's conditions?"  
  
At this, everyone exchanged glances, giving this matter serious thought, until one of them finally let out. "If I may." The most senior general in the group said, "We should impose some conditions as well. I don't want to see an incompetent fool becoming emperor."  
  
****  
  
Kealer was waiting in a small hallway outside the Conference Room, his dark sweaty hair hiding his scarred face. Seeing Raynor come out, he said: "So, sir, how did it go?"  
  
"Not good." Raynor said, shaking his head. "They want to sign a peace treaty, but I'm sure this is bullshit. Anyway, I'm gonna try to put some pressure on them, to force them to accept one of us as the next Emperor."  
  
Kealer smiled: "And who exactly are you thinking about, sir?"  
  
"Well, I didn't think about it much, to be honest. Maybe you, Kealer, or."  
  
Kealer interrupted him: "you."  
  
Raynor sighed: "Probably not. I'm not a good leader."  
  
Kealer smiled: "Really, sir? Who led us since we ran away from Mengsk? Who got us to befriend the Protoss? Who did."  
  
"Ah, okay, okay. I'll take this in consideration, Kealer. Let's just wait to see if those annoying aristocrats accept in the first place. I gave them four."  
  
The Conference Room's door opened and a guard came out, saying: "Commander Jim Raynor?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me." Raynor answered, coolly.  
  
"The Dominion Military Consul wishes to speak to you again."  
  
Kealer arched an eyebrow. "Wow! That was quick."  
  
Raynor nodded and returned to the Conference Room, where the generals looked serious and tired. The blond-haired one said: "Commander Raynor, we have arrived at a decision."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"We accept your idea on one condition."  
  
"Condition? What condition?"  
  
"That you would be the next Emperor of the Dominion, not just one of your incompetent subordinates."  
  
"Oh, please. Why does everyone want me to be the leader? Can't I just retire in peace, for god's sake?"  
  
"Well? Will you lead the Dominion?"  
  
Raynor shrugged. He knew that he had leadership, but he wanted to retire. But even then, he did enjoy helping others, and he always hated corrupted governments. Now was the chance to create a good government, for a change. He said: "Bah, ok. If you want." Raynor said, causing relief among the generals. Maybe they wouldn't be in charge, but at least, they'd have a good leader.  
  
**Flashback end**  
  
Sure, Jim Raynor had been reluctant to accept, but he liked his position, now.  
  
A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Come in." Raynor said. A guard came in, saying:  
  
"Sir? There's Ambassador Kalis here to see you."  
  
Raynor smiled. Kalis, a protoss warrior formerly part of Raynor's raiders, was now the first-ever Protoss Ambassador of the Dominion. He kept contact between the terran and Protoss, which was quite useful. Raynor said: "Send him in."  
  
The tall Protoss Zealot entered the room, a serious look in his eyes. He told Raynor mentally: "Emperor Raynor. I have an important matter to discuss with you."  
  
Raynor raised an eyebrow, wondering what could be so important. Kalis continued: "Yesterday, an outpost around Aiur has been attacked."  
  
Raynor answered, surprised: "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"We lost contact with one of our outposts around Mar Sara, two days ago. When Kealer went there to investigate, he found one of the men on duty, badly injured. The two others just disappeared."  
  
"I see. Who did it?"  
  
"We don't know. Kealer found some unknown DNA sample on the ground. The science crew's analysing it now."  
  
"D and A?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. That's right. You don't know about that. Well, let's just say that DNA is found everywhere in your body, and it's unique to each individual. By DNA, we can know, among other things, what species you're from."  
  
"Hmm.I forgot how resourceful you terrans could be."  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment. Now, would you have information about the attackers on your side?"  
  
"That's precisely why I came. An observer was there during the assault and survived, mainly because of its cloaking. I've been sent it and I have it with me. You should find the recorded images quite surprising.."  
  
***  
  
Dan Kealer, promoted to the rank of general, was the "supreme military commander of the Dominion", something he didn't care about one bit. Well, to be honest, he liked to be able to make his own rules, to avoid being court-martialled after taking part in cantina fights, and so many little things he never could have done before.  
  
He went down the luxuriously decorated hallway, his worn-out firebat suit contrasting greatly with that of the other officers moving around. At the end of the hallway was the Conference room, which he entered, with a warm welcome from the guard. Kealer was really popular among his subordinates.  
  
He entered the brightly lightened conference room, grinning at the exasperated faces of the other generals. He didn't like them one bit, and he always arrived late to piss them off.  
  
"Ah, General Kealer. Finally, you've arrived." One of the generals said, glassy-eyed and sleepy.  
  
Kealer answered: "Yeah. Sorry for being late. I took a bit more time than I thought taking care of my work." The other generals groaned and some looked at the ceiling, as if saying, "Why are we stuck with this moron?"  
  
"Well," a blond-haired general said, "could you please relate what exactly happened?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Kealer cleared his throat and said: "Two days ago, at 1535 hours precisely, we lost contact with one of the orbital stations around Mar Sara, station 5565-codename star ray. At 1700 hours, I went there to investigate the situation, after multiple attempts at re-establishing the communication had failed. Upon my arrival, I saw that the station had been greatly damaged, and I found out that two of the three guards on duty, namely Private John Stippler and Lieutenant Terry Lonk, had disappeared. Here are their disciplinary files." He passed down copies of the two soldiers' files to the other generals. "As you can see, their disciplinary files show no evidence that they would have tried to desert after wrecking the station. Therefore, I think that the outpost has been attacked..."  
  
"What happened to the third guard on duty?" A general asked, interrupting Kealer.  
  
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Well, I found the third guard, corporal Dave Moffy, unconscious and badly injured, but alive. He's currently in the military hospital in intensive treatment, but he should be all right. I asked the head medic to call me when Corporal Moffy would wake up. I'll need to ask him what happened. I also took a strange-looking liquid that looks like blood to the lab for analysis. The scientists told me that they'd have it analysed soon. But first of all, we have to reinforce the defence perimeter around Mar Sara."  
  
"Of course. That would be essential. But I'd like to ask you something: Why have you, a highly ranked officer, investigated that area like a lowly private?" A dark-skinned, bald general asked.  
  
"Someone had to do it, and I kind of like remembering my days as a firebat. Anyway. General Sarly," He said, looking at the dark-skinned general, "I want a full report of all the assaults done on our outposts in the last six months. This is very important, so don't mess up. General Meller," He said to the blond-haired general, "get a tech squad to retrieve the station's main computer. When that'll be done, try to find any and all information about the assault. I want to know what these things are and how they sneaked past our defences. This is a priority, so be sure not to mess up either. The rest of you, organize the different defensive layers. Determine yourselves the job divisions. This conference is adjourned." Kealer finished. He quickly got up and left the room. He looked at his watch and grinned. "He he. I'll be just in time for my poker game..."  
  
End of the chapter  
  
Author's note: So, how do you like it? Sorry for the wait. Read and review, please. 


	2. Chapter 2: Mind's presence

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. I had to go back to the drawing board with this chapter a few times.  
  
Chapter 2: Mind's presence  
  
Kerrigan looked around her beautiful mansion. It was quiet. Too quiet. Normally, her son would come to see her, or Raynor would call, asking if everything was alright, but there was nothing, except silence.  
  
Then, out of nowhere, a huge, undistinguishable monster leapt at Kerrigan, taking her by surprise. She jumped aside, dodging the thing's powerful leap. It hit a wall behind Kerrigan and fell unconscious. Kerrigan then had a good look at it.  
  
It was undeniably hideous. It faintly resembled an ultralisk, but the skin was gray, somewhat like the Protoss, with tusks that seemed nothing more than blue blades of lightning. Kerrigan shuddered. "What is this?" She wondered.  
  
"Didn't I warn you?" A familiar voice said.  
  
Kerrigan turned around and swore. She was seeing a ghost. The dark figure of Duran walked towards her, smiling. "The air up here is...nice." He sniffed. "Not that I'm breathing, though." He chuckled. "Nice place, by the way," he exclaimed animatedly, resting his hands on the back of his head while admiring the paintings the walls were covered with.  
  
Kerrigan was shocked. "Aren't you dead?"  
  
He glanced and said simply, "I am." then resumed examining the portrait in front of him absently. He held a thinking gesture while stroking his black beard. Then he concluded, "Hmm...Magnificent artwork."  
  
Kerrigan did not answer that. Instead, her eyes rolled everywhere. "Oh, my god!" she grunted as her two hands ruffled her crimson hair in distress and then she screamed, "Oh, this can't be real."  
  
At that, the old friend had bursts of laughter. "Kerrigan," he called out amusingly. "If so, am I such a nightmare to you?" he smiled again, baring his white teeth that held a significant contrast to his darker skin tones.  
  
Kerringan turned to him and glared on. "Alright," she shouted. "Stop laughing and tell me: what is happening here?" she demanded.  
  
Indeed, he stopped laughing and then held a grave look. Concern. Worry. Then, pensively looking at her family portrait. "It's time. The threat is ...." The voice stopped abruptly and in a blink, the figure was cast away. Yet something that resembled a carapaced zealot filled his absence instantaneously. It stood tall amazingly, looking as tall as a hydralisk. Displaying a menacing look, it stared at Kerrigan, bloodlust filling its eyes. Then, it opened its carapace and mentally shrieked a charging roar.  
  
At this, her eyes widened then closed tightly as she turned her back on it, terrified to look further. The thing was a horrible sight and dashed forward in a hurry. The sound of its steps crashed across her red carpet. It neared until its terrible shrieks pierced Kerrigan's ears deafeningly. She trembled. Her hands covered her ears unsteadily, waiting for the moment. Then there it was. It crashed through her, like a sub-zero shock that literally electrified her spine. She held her last breath as darkness took over. Her body dropped across the crimson cashmere.  
  
**  
  
"Mommy! Mommy," a voice shouted, sounding panicked. "Mommy!" a young voice pleaded in between sniffs of a runny nose.  
  
She then felt being shaken a bit and opened her eyes again. Her 4 year-old son looked at her, crying all over her. "Mommy, mommy?" His soft hands hugged her tightly.  
  
Kerrigan looked around and breathed. 'It was just a dream.' She told to herself as her hand wiped the tear from his eye. She looked at her son: "It's nothing, sweetie."  
  
"No, it's not. You were just twisting and turning and yelling all the time," he stated firmly with tears still streaming down his cheek.  
  
Kerrigan said, holding her head: "Mommy's just worried about something that you don't know about..." She paused then grabbed him and hugged him tightly as she soothed, "It's okay, Arthur. It's okay. Mommy's fine, now."  
  
Kerrigan took a deep breath and sighed. That had been one strange nightmare. But was it really a dream? Or was it a premonition? She had no idea why, but she was sure that it wasn't just a dream. Why else would she always have these dreams these last few weeks? Something was about to happen. She was sure. She took a phone and dialled a number she knew very well.  
  
"You are at the central Dominion Call Control. You have called the Dominion Emperor, Jim Raynor. Please state your name and relation to the Emperor." Said a robotized voice.  
  
"Sarah Kerrigan, wife of Jim Raynor." Kerrigan answered.  
  
"We will check if the Emperor can speak to you now." The robotized voice said, as a small, calm music started to drown its voice.  
  
Shortly after, Jim's voice echoed in the phone: "Hey, darlin'. Not to sound rude, but can this wait? I'm on a meeting with Kalis right now....."  
  
"It happened again."  
  
"What, you mean another stupid dream? Hum, listen. You know like I do that nothing's threatening us. You know that monsters like the ones in your dreams don't exist. What the hell's happening to you? Are you going crazy?"  
  
"No, I'm....."  
  
Then, a sharp pain suddenly struck Kerrigan. One of the Zerg outposts was being attacked. She took a deep breath and focused to look through the eyes of an overlord who was there.  
  
Her eyes widened as she saw the battlefield below. Her zerg forces, small due to the size of the outpost, were largely outnumbered. Some of the creatures they were up against looked exactly like the monstrously huge ones in Kerrigan's nightmare, while others looked like carapace-covered zealots.  
  
"Oh, my god." Kerrigan muttered under her breath. She focused on regrouping her forces, oblivious to Raynor, who was asking her what was happening. With her forces regrouped, Kerrigan had the zerglings form a circle around the hydralisks, who fired acidic spines at the zealot-looking creatures, while the ultralisks fought tusk to tusk with the huge monsters. At that time, the zerglings cut through the carapaces of some of the zealot-like creatures.  
  
Under the carapace, the creatures looked nothing like zealots. Veins covered every inch of their abdomens, and their torsos seemed covered with teeth-sharp blades, all of them ready to be released on the enemy. The zerglings were mowed down easily as each of the creatures unleashed their spikes in a volley of blood and gore. Kerrigan felt pain while each of her zerglings was killed, but she gritted her teeth and sent in her mutalisks to try and stop the attackers.  
  
At first, it was working quite well, as the creatures had no defence against the dangerous flyers, who sent their glave worms zigzagging through the enemies, covering their faces in green acid. The battle seemed won. But then, an overlord other than the one Kerrigan was looking through saw a strange ship approach. It had a strangely familiar look.  
  
"Is that..... a carrier?" Kerrigan said. The carrier-shaped ship had not only Protoss shields, but an ultra-thick carapace that was obviously zerg-like. Then, small vessels flew out of the main ship and headed towards the mutalisks. But those weren't interceptors. Kerrigan said: "Scourges? In a carrier? What in the world?" The scourges attacked the mutalisks and the overlords, killing them all mercilessly, causing Kerrigan unbearable pain. She knew the battle was over. Collapsing in agony, Kerrigan yelled and fell unconscious.  
  
Raynor, hearing the scream, said, worried: "Kerrigan? Are you okay? What the hell happened, for god's sake? KERRIGAN!!!"  
  
***  
  
Kerrigan opened her eyes. No longer was she in the beautiful mansion she lived in. She was now on a barren landscape, which was smoking and filled with corpses. A being stood a few meters in front of her, its face hidden in the shadows. That being was somehow familiar. She approached and yelped in horror when she recognized it: It was her infested self. It said:  
  
"Would you look at that? My weak self. I can't believe how stupid you are, making peace with inferior ones like that. I never would have done such a thing."  
  
Kerrigan answered, defiant: "So? I have my own reasons."  
  
"Would those reasons implicate Jim Raynor?"  
  
"What if that's the case?"  
  
"You let power slip from your hands, do you realize it? For love, for unnecessary feelings, you let power slip from your hands. You're weak, like all humans."  
  
Kerrigan was starting to be angry. Her? Weak? Humanity, feelings, those were, in her opinion, blessings. Her other self spoke:  
  
"Soon, though, you'll get another opportunity, another chance to be once more powerful. Will you let that power slip from your hands as well?"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
The other self answered, bloodlust filling her eyes: "A new power arises. You saw it. Can you feel the rush, the will to fight, the killer instinct that made you so lethal?"  
  
Kerrigan shuddered. Had she really been that bad before? The other self continued: "I feel it. I feel the will to defeat that insurmountable power. But one thing's for sure: From that power, you can learn. They are the next step of evolution. You'll understand soon enough." The other self and the landscape faded away, leaving only darkness and a confused Kerrigan. She yelled and woke up in a hospital bed, sweating.  
  
***  
  
Dan Kealer counted his winnings, as he had just won over 700 credits from the very unlucky tech crew. Whistling, he entered the hospital, having received a call about Dave Moffy being awake. He looked around. Medics were running around everywhere, clearly occupied.  
  
"Ah, excuse me." Kealer said, "Can anyone tell me where the head medic is?"  
  
A medic stopped and told him: "She's at room no. 253."  
  
"Thanks." Kealer said to the medic, who was already going back to her occupations. Kealer walked around, trying to spot room no.253 and the head medic, and finally, he saw her outside of a room's door, talking to someone who Kealer couldn't clearly see. He walked quickly towards her. Then, he noticed that she was actually speaking to Emperor Raynor.  
  
"She should be all right, now." The head medic said.  
  
"You sure about that?" Raynor asked, clearly worried.  
  
"Affirmative. The pain from the loss of her minions should subside within the next few minutes."  
  
"Alright. Thanks." Raynor turned away towards the person in the room, which Kealer could have sworn looked a lot like Kerrigan. He went to the head medic and asked:  
  
"Ah, hi. What were you talking about with the Emperor just now?"  
  
"Nothing that's of your business. The Emperor's here on personal reasons. Now, I suppose you weren't here to collect imperial gossip. What do you want?"  
  
"You told me that Corporal Dave Moffy woke up. Can I talk to him?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. He's right there." She said, pointing towards the room in front of her. Through the door's window, Kealer saw a young, dark-skinned man, holding his right leg and grunting about something. Kealer walked in the room and asked:  
  
"Corporal Dave Moffy?"  
  
The man answered: "Who wants to know, pal?"  
  
"I'm General Dan Kealer, 'Supreme Commanding Officer of the Dominion' or that kind of shit. I'm here to talk to you about the reason you're here, in this infirmary."  
  
Dave didn't hear the end of the sentence. He was staring incredulously at Kealer, looking at his firebat suit, and then staring at the stripes on the suit's shoulder. "You, a general?" Dave blurted out, incredulously. "Is this a joke? A dirty-mouthed guy like you, an officer? Hell, you look and act like a good old marine. I even played poker with you five days ago. Are you really a general or did you steal those stripes?"  
  
"I'm serious. And for the poker playing, I'm probably the only superior officer in this army who likes to spend time playing poker with his subordinates. Now, to return to the subject, I want to talk to you about the reason you're here."  
  
"Namely, the stupid accident in which I broke my leg. Say, where are John and that moron Terry?"  
  
"Disappeared. The outpost seems to have been attacked while you were unconscious. When I went to investigate, I found you, buried in a pile of stuff, a flamethrower named "Zippo" right on your broken leg. Was it yours?"  
  
"Yeah, I climbed to fetch it on the top shelf when an explosion rocked the ship and I fell to the ground. That's all I remember. But hey....." Dave thought for a second, "Whaddaya mean, the outpost's been attacked?"  
  
Dan ignored the comment and asked: "Why was your flamethrower on the top shelf?"  
  
"Some asshole had put it there. Probably a lame prank. But you didn't answer my question. Who the hell attacked the outpost?"  
  
Kealer grunted, understanding Corporal Moffy didn't seem to have any information at all about the assault. He said: " To answer your question, we have no idea who attacked the outpost. I know that's a pain in the ass, but that's a fact. I'm investigating on what happened. That'll be all, corporal. See ya!"  
  
"Wait a minute, sir! You owe me a rematch at poker, don't you?"  
  
Kealer smiled: "So, you want your ass handed to you again?"  
  
Dave smiled and took out a deck of cards. "Why don't we play right now?" He said.  
  
"Well, I got a report to do on our conversation, I got to continue investigating the assault, and that's without mentioning the daily report to the Emperor that I have to do before 1700 hours. Bah, let's play anyway....." His eyes widened as he remembered something: The director of the science institute had told him to be there before 1600 hours to talk about the DNA sample he had given them. He checked his watch. It was 1605. ".....or maybe not. Sorry, I gotta run. I'll try coming tonight. Bye!" Kealer then ran out of the hospital, towards the lab.  
  
Arriving at the Dominion Central Scientific Institute, Kealer entered, panting. The first thing he saw was the lab director, Dr. Marry Carsy, tapping her feet in impatience, a frown on her face. "You're late."  
  
Kealer was embarrassed. It was one thing to piss off a group of generals, but it was much worse to get Dr. Carsy angry. She was, to everyone in the lab, the definition of "bitch". In fact, some people actually argued whether they'd rather have had Kerrigan, when she was the Queen of Blades, leading this lab.  
  
But, even if she was a bitch, Kealer found her cute. Her untied, brown hair and her beautiful face had got Kealer to actually ask to go on a date with her once, causing her to almost dislocate Kealer's jaw in a good old "bitch- slap". Now, Kealer knew that he needed to be careful what he said in front of her. Dr. Carsy spoke, in an annoyed voice:  
  
"Should have known. You men are all the same." She shook her head. "Now, just come right here. I have to show you something about that sample you gave me."  
  
Kealer then followed Dr. Carsy towards a well-equipped lab, with the technicians moving away at the sight of the lab director. Arriving there, Kealer saw that Dr. Carsy was in front of a table, with a microscope on it. "Sit there" She said, pointing towards a chair. Kealer reluctantly sat down, wondering what she wanted to show him. "Look in this." She said, pointing towards the microscope.  
  
Kealer looked inside the lens. He didn't know much about science, but he guessed that seeing blue and red molecules moving around probably wasn't a good sign. "What are those?" He asked, intrigued.  
  
"The blue ones contain Protoss DNA, or something very similar. As for the red ones, they react to the Zerg DNA tests."  
  
Kealer was starting to get worried. What the hell was going on? He asked: "Now, doctor, I suppose you'd know why Zerg and Protoss DNA are actually in the same blood."  
  
"Actually, we're not too sure. That's where the trouble starts."  
  
"Could it be an infestation?"  
  
"That's what we thought too, but the particles work in harmony, whereas in an infestation, the zerg particles would be absorbing the other ones. It's a symbiosis. It makes no sense. We honestly couldn't think of any possibility at all, except....."  
  
"Hybriding?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Now, weren't you supposed to lock away all reports related to hybrid experimentation, by order of the Emperor himself?"  
  
"Yes, and it was done. If you're going to insinuate that we made whatever things attacked the outpost, you're out of your....."  
  
"I ain't insinuating anything, doctor. I just hope you'll give this matter serious investigation. And you better not be hiding anything." Kealer finished, in a condescending tone.  
  
"Now, don't start taking that tone on me....."  
  
"I will if I want to! Start checking if anyone had access to those reports at any time, or I'll have you arrested!" Kealer felt anger, great anger, rising in his chest as he said that.  
  
Dr. Carsy was bewildered. No man had ever treated her like that, and it wasn't about to start. She tried to slap Kealer, but he grasped her arm before her blow could hit and clutched it tightly. He kept a neutral look on his face and took a deep breath. "Listen, doctor." He tried to remain as calm as possible. "Two men, two good soldiers, have disappeared. Much more will as well unless we understand what exactly is going on here. Understood?" the director didn't answer. Kealer yelled out: "UNDERSTOOD?"  
  
Dr Carsy said, a bit shook up, but still angry: "But aren't soldiers risking their lives on their job? Isn't it normal for some of them to die?"  
  
Kealer grasped Dr. Carsy's sleeve and pushed her up against the wall. He didn't care if she had an explosive temper or not. He didn't care that she had been sued five times for death threats. Right now, he only wanted to make one point clear. "Doctor," Kealer started, furious. "Do you even realize what you're saying? Do you think all of us are just drones or something? Hell, you're generally the first one to complain when a field scientist is killed."  
  
"Because that kind of person could have helped science, but regular soldiers....."  
  
Kealer's hands were trembling now. If he'd been carrying a gun, he'd probably have shot Dr. Carsy for that comment. His eyes showed nothing but disgust now. "Whether a person's a scientist or not, most of us have something: family, friends, all waiting for us back home. We're all worth the same, doctor, and you're honestly just an idiot if you can't realize that. Now, you have your instructions. Carry them out right now. THAT'S AN ORDER!." Kealer said, as he let go of Dr. Carsy's arm.  
  
Dr. Carsy nodded and gritted her teeth, even as Kealer let go of her arm. Kealer hadn't squeezed her arm much, but he had hurt her pride, something no one had done before, and she fell to her knees, almost crying and infuriated at the same time.  
  
Kealer left the lab and was immediately greeted by the lab technicians. All of them had listened to Kealer and Dr. Carsy's heated conversation, and all of them cheered Kealer.  
  
"Hell, I thought no one could shut her damn trap!" A technician said.  
  
"I maybe lost 100 credits to you in poker, but this was worth it." Another one said.  
  
Kealer's comm. device rang at that time. Kealer walked away from the others and left the Institute. He spoke in his comm.. device: "Yeah?"  
  
Raynor's voice was heard: "Kealer? How's it going, man?"  
  
"Not bad. I've just got a bit of information on the attackers. For all we know, they could be hybrids."  
  
"Just what I needed. More bad news. That wasn't the reason I called you, though, even if you ARE quite late for your report. I was on a meeting with Kalis, the Protoss Ambassador, and I had to leave for an emergency....."  
  
Kealer interrupted him: "Let me guess. You want me to go back there and hear what he has to say."  
  
"Actually, he's already left my office. But, he left me an observer, which has a visual view of what may be our attackers. Pick up that machinery at my office. Then, read the data the observer has collected. Maybe it'll help. Bye!" The link was shut off.  
  
"At least, it's going somewhere..." Kealer said before heading towards Raynor's office.  
  
***  
  
Zeratul stared into emptiness, as his cape swayed in the wind. He was trying to understand what was happening. Ten years ago, after Mengsk's death, he had left Raynor and the others, not wishing to establish himself on Aiur, the home he had been banned from. He had been drawn to a beautiful planet, filled with green flora, swift rivers and pure beauty, which was called Arenil. Perhaps he wanted to see the planet in which Kerrigan was finally captured, or perhaps he just wanted to feel the beauty of this place. He didn't know why, but he just had to visit it.  
  
Shortly after his arrival, his psionic intuition persevered. The enigmatic Protoss senses surfaced in his mind again. This time, however, it dominated his actions over logic with pure instinct. As a result, he flew his corsair blindsided, as if he guided it by feel. Fingers twisting delicately over the craft's impulse controls, he guided the craft by seeking a distinct shoulder-like coldness that had the semblance of a kindred-like familiarity, as it was acting as a flawless compass.  
  
The lonely metallic-gold coated craft hovered over seas of fertile vegetation until it shadowed over of a lush green valley, surmounted by a magnificent waterfall. It was at that moment he saw the one thing he never could have expected to find: A Xel' Naga temple at the centre of it all, yet surrounded by a kilometre-wide radius of steep, rocky walls that looked unreal enough to be synthetic.  
  
"Adun be praised," he muttered as he awed at the very same structure that was the salvation of his people. His first thoughts were admiration at the breathtaking Xel'Naga architecture, but then, his curiosity somehow touched a volatile memory. And waves of questions that had sorely ached his mind many years ago exploded into his mind.  
  
"Who is our creator? Where do we come from...? Existences. Origins. Conclave. Khala. Adun. And the Xel Naga."  
  
Because of the Protoss' limited knowledge of their creators, his extraordinary mind was left without answers for decades. If only Duran was still alive, maybe he, that had been touched by the power of the Xel' Naga, could have helped him. But he was dead, now.  
  
Abandoning those thoughts, the dark templar wasted no time after landing his ship. Armed with his trusty warp blades and his personal plasma shield, he began his thousand paces towards the sacred temple. With the structure closer in view, he noted observations. It was uncanny; the exterior and towering construction was a spitting image of the Shakuras' one. Yet, he had a strange feeling. It seemed different, somehow as his hands caressed the stone-like dual doorway.  
  
He opened it with one push. And his eyes squinted as he glared at the mysterious light that painted him as he continued pushing through the ancient, rusty gates, old of millions of years.  
  
Inside the temple were countless Xel' Naga scriptures, all just waiting to be read. If Zeratul would understand his creators, he would need to understand these scriptures.  
  
Surprisingly, after a rather short period of time, he was able to translate even the most basic ancient Xel'Naga runes and symbols, moving onto even more complex ones in a matter of days. With that, he started to work with the Collectors, a group of knowledge-hungry dark templars, and his duties started to broaden, from supervising the Collectors, who were almost trying to pillage the temple, to translation assistance over the seventy thousand distinct symbols on each Xel'Naga ceiling. But the most significant part of it all was that he never realised that he had the talent for translating the Xel' Naga scriptures until he had accidentally, or so he modestly admitted, uncovered the hidden message to the most crucial Xel'Naga riddle of it all; how to work the temple.  
  
Under the rough translation it read "Only with two stars under an arched sky may the cosmic wrath of the temple be unleashed" Upon his accidental discovery of a clue, discovered when walking through the temple on one dawn of light, he had discovered that the towers of the temple were simply arc shaped, thus the rest was history. An enigma that had eluded the entire community of the Collectors for many months had so been solved by an unlikely Protoss: Zeratul himself.  
  
His walk ended in the face of a scarred wall. On it, he had found multiple scriptures, from the mundane, to the monumental. Scriptures that were surprising, unbelievable, and almost impossible. He wouldn't have believed them if he hadn't read them. One of them read like this:  
  
We have always wanted to be gods  
  
But of our survival, I don't like the odds  
  
A species of destruction is now here  
  
Filling our hearts with pure fear  
  
Its familiarity making us shed a tear  
  
And even though I am no seer  
  
I know what this species will cause  
  
Chaos and destruction without pause  
  
They have been made of pure power and our intelligence  
  
Though we forgot to grant them a conscience  
  
For that, their powers continue to grow  
  
Do we stand a chance? Well, no  
  
We have always wanted to be like them  
  
We treat each of them like a precious gem  
  
But their souls are greatly corrupted  
  
By greed of power, they have been tainted  
  
They will kill us sometime soon  
  
And our blood will be shed on the great moon  
  
There may be a sole, hopeless way  
  
That will probably keep them at bay  
  
But after this barrier will fall  
  
It will be death and misery for all  
  
Unless body, mind and soul unite  
  
All of them standing, ready to fight  
  
Uniting and fighting like one  
  
For the destruction to be now gone  
  
And for life to continue on  
  
Its struggle eternally undone  
  
Zeratul thought that there had to be a hidden message somewhere in this, yet he couldn't understand it. Not only that, but a scripture after this one seemed to have been torn away from the wall, somehow. Zeratul sighed. Body? Mind? Soul? These terms seemed to have a hidden meaning. But what could it be? And what was the species of destruction that was mentioned? Was it the zerg? Something told him it wasn't that. The zerg had been made of power, but they lacked intelligence. The Protoss, his own brethren? They look like the Xel' Naga, but they are not destroyers. Was it something more?  
  
"The answers lie with the other outcasts." A resonant voice said in Zeratul's head.  
  
Zeratul's eyes widened and he took out his warp blade. "Who said this?" The Dark Prelate asked.  
  
"We, the ones who created you. The Xel' Naga."  
  
Zeratul couldn't believe it. "But you're dead! The zerg have slaughtered you all!"  
  
"Death came to many, but not all. Those who have not shared our demise created the terrans, among other things. They are the species responsible for the final piece of the puzzle, Zeratul. Evolution's end is nearing."  
  
"How do you know my name? And what do you mean by 'final piece of the puzzle'? Show yourselves!"  
  
"We have watched over you for centuries, as you tried to understand these writings that we wrote, at this temple and others like it."  
  
"Well, if you are the ones who have written it, tell me what it means!"  
  
The Xel' Naga laughed and said: "In due time, Zeratul. Right now, go back with your Protoss brethren. They may need you soon."  
  
Zeratul couldn't believe it. Could his creators really be communicating with him? And if yes, why? As he boarded his corsair to go back to Aiur, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.....  
  
End of the chapter  
  
Author's Note: As you read this, I'm hard at work on chapter 3. You have my word that you won't have to wait two months to read it. 


	3. Chapter 3: Awakening of a new power

Disclaimer: Blizzard Entertainment Inc owns Starcraft and all related properties.  
  
Chapter 3: Awakening of a new power  
  
Human. This is what he had been once. But not any more  
  
He awakened, bathed in a red, nutritional liquid, surrounded by a metallic barrier, dazed and confused. Feeling strangely unfamiliar to everything, he had just been aware of a few moments ago.  
  
He tried to move and suddenly, a sharp pain stung both his arms, paining him dreadfully. He turned towards them, and his eyes widened, as he saw long tubes inserted within his arms. Somehow, those tubes even seemed organic. He tried to speak out, but ended up swallowing red water, which started to drown him.  
  
Panic filled his mind. His limbs kicked and trashed wildly upon the cylindrical barrier. He could not get out. He could not breathe. He couldn't even scream for help. Without realizing what he was doing, energy started to pour out of him, and the golden structure imprisoning him began to crack, until finally a crevice formed, getting him flushed out.  
  
He gasped for air. This had been a really close call. Then, he lay on the wet floor in respite, trying to sleep, in vain. He began to hear subtle voices in his mind. The voices were soothing, calm, and entangling, asking him to be part of a greater cause. He was all ears, until a much more violent voice raged in his mind.  
  
"Oh, not authority again." A voice sounded in his head. "I'm through with this shit." This voice sounded familiar, until he realized that it was his own. It was a memory of him, as he had been before, struggling to be remembered. "I didn't accept this before. I won't start now." The voice continued. After, the soothing call continued to echo in his mind, "You must accept to evolve. We are the salvation to your weakness. Join us." The being wondered: Should he follow the voice? Another thought from the past echoed violently in his head, "Ah, fuck authority!" He felt confused and weary. On one side, something was calling him, an authority, which could help him evolve. On the other side, his personality was piercing through, telling him to get rid of authority. He yelled in confusion and fainted.  
  
A few moments later, he awoke again. However, this time, the voices were gone. He felt relieved as he relaxed a little bit. He struggled to get up, and surveyed the room.  
  
It was an atrocity, a room that was nightmarish, despicable. The golden walls had an eerie but crimson glow to them, and they were covered by what seemed like...veins. Huge, pulsing, blood red veins were all over the walls, covering what would otherwise be a beautiful, golden structure. Somehow, this didn't feel right to him. He touched the walls, wanting to know if the veins were alive, and noticed his hands. Each of his fingers ended in a sharp blade, and his hand's had changed: It was a grayish blue, and it seemed to be covered in veins, like the walls. Also, power radiated from his hands. Actually, power radiated from his entire body.  
  
"What the freakin' hell happened to me?" He thought.  
  
Suddenly, he heard footsteps from afar. Quickly, the being hid behind another structure as two other, different-looking beings approached. Most would have described them as a mixture of Protoss skin and face, with an organic zerg-like carapace giving them a strange silhouette.  
  
One of them said mentally, "How did the shell break so soon?"  
  
The second answered, his eyes widened, "I have no idea. The symbiosis should be complete at this point, so he shouldn't be a threat to us. It probably hasn't gone too far."  
  
"And the other specimen?" The first one said, pointing towards the structure behind which the being was hidden.  
  
"Let him be, for now. We have yet to study the effectiveness of the symbiosis. Let's not take too many chances. We will not begin the next symbiosis until we have more information. Come. Let us begin the search here."  
  
And with that, the two strange beings approached the area where the one they were looking for lay, breathing heavily.  
  
"I'll be caught if I don't move it." He said, looking desperately for a hiding spot, but finding none. As one of the two strange beings approached the structure, the symbiosed one jumped at him, slashing his throat quickly with his razor-sharp fingers. He then turned to the second one, who had put a shield up and now stood tall, a double-edged organic spear in his hands.  
  
"Incredible. What power! What speed! You shall be a worthy warrior in our army." the being said, amazed.  
  
"What have you done to me???" The infested one thundered, his anger rising. His eyes blazed with fury. His fingers were burning, and even the floor between his feet was starting to redden as he stomped towards the one in front of him.  
  
He touched his enemy's shield and depleted it in seconds. At that, the strange being was speechless. He had a mixed reaction of amazement and fear. "No, stop." The first one shouted, while the one who had been wounded began to recover and stand up. "Don't come near. Stay back!" he voiced in a frightful crescendo with a tingle of desperation.  
  
The wounded one got up and tried to run, but instantly felt his body frozen in midair. Pure terror now filled his mind, as the infested one stared at him, with an icy cold glare. He turned at the first one, who seemed to be accepting his dreaded fate. With a desperate tone, he said, resigned, "If you'll kill me, let me die now, with honor."  
  
The infested one had pure bloodlust in his eyes. "With pleasure," He took his fingers through the chest of the strange one, destroying his heart. In seconds, he was soiled in purplish blood. He turned to the second one and asked him, disgust upon his face, "Who are you? What have you done to me?"  
  
To that, the second one stared bravely at him and said, "May the Thanatians reign supreme."  
  
In impatience, the infested one raged and slashed wildly, releasing psionic bolts which cut the strange one to pieces. In confusion, he thought, "What's gonna happen to me?"  
  
The infested then remembered that the structure held another "specimen". Maybe he'd know something. The infested one quickly blew the structure away, revealing a tall uniformed man, which looked oddly familiar. He had obviously had been brought in by force, but he looked healthy and sane. The man's eyes opened and he looked at the one in front of him with fear.  
  
The man spoke, his eyes showing his great panic, "Wh, where am I? Who are you?" He then jumped in surprise as he recognized him. "Private Stippler? John? What the hell happened to you?"  
  
The infested one said, "You know my name?"  
  
The man answered, surprised by the comment, "Of course I know you. You're Private 1st John Stippler, of the Dominion Army."  
  
"Who...are you? And what is this Dominion you're talking about?"  
  
"You don't recognize me? Have you been brainwashed or something? I'm Lieutenant Terry Lonk, your freakin' superior, the one you called an asshole, remember?"  
  
John gave it some thought and answered, "Sorry, I don't remember you. Well, to say the truth, I don't remember anything."  
  
Terry shook his head. "Ok. I won't waste time. I'm the only one you can trust here, and that's all you need to know, for now. Understood?"  
  
John replied with a puzzled look. Was this man more authority?  
  
Terry looked around. "Anyway, do you have any idea where we are?"  
  
"Actually, I was hoping you'd maybe know."  
  
Terry grunted. "Let me get this straight: We're in the middle of God-knows- where, you've been changed in some sort of weird monster, and we don't even have a single weapon. Say, did you see anyone here?"  
  
John nodded. "Two weird creatures. They were atrocities."  
  
"What did they look like? Protoss, zerg or terran?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. Forgot you don't remember anything. What did they look like?"  
  
"Well, um, they had grayish skin, with veins covering their entire bodies, and a weird thick carapace covering them. There was also a weird blue barrier around one of them."  
  
Terry gave him a puzzled look: "What? Are they really like that?"  
  
"Yeah. Well, from what I remember."  
  
"How did you get rid of them? Do you have a gun?"  
  
"Look behind me." John pointed behind of him, towards the corpses of the two strange beings. Terry saw that they were as John had said. He couldn't believe it. It wasn't human. It looked like a merge between a zerg and a Protoss. Well, the corpse that was mostly intact anyway. The other one was in tiny pieces. "Damn. What happened to them?"  
  
John came up behind him and said, showing his razor-sharp fingers, "Me. That's what." Terry leapt backwards. John continued, "Don't worry about our enemies. I'll take care of them. Let's go."  
  
Terry nodded and took a deep breath. Maybe he'd be able to escape. He had to reach the Dominion, whatever he did. The things that had captured him were inhumanly powerful, and the Dominion, the zerg and the Protoss had to be warned. John walked towards the room's pulsing metallic door and Terry followed, shuddering at the sight of his infested subordinate.  
  
"What?" John said, feeling Terry's fear.  
  
"No, nothing. I'm just...well...uneasy. I don't know if you realize it, but you look scary."  
  
John turned around, and in the reflection of the wall, he saw his face. His terran traits were still visible, but his gray skin and fiery eyes, not to mention his sharp, beast-like teeth, covered them up. His eyes widened. Taking a deep breath, he continued,  
  
"Not like I chose it. At the Dominion you spoke of, is there a cure for me?"  
  
Terry nodded. "You should be alright once you're treated."  
  
"Then, let's get there quickly. I may be strong like this, but I don't feel right at all."  
  
With that, the two started to trek through the unknown building. Unbeknownst to them, what lay ahead was worst than even their worst nightmares...  
  
Kerrigan swallowed hard, as Raynor paced around the room. She had just told him about the assault, and about the weird characteristics of the attackers.  
  
"This can't be happening. Not another war." Raynor said to himself.  
  
"My dreams were a warning. Now, we have to be ready. We aren't dealing with some little renegade force here. This is a powerful and dangerous army. The little attacks they're doing are to test us. They want to size us up. I already read your thoughts about the other recent assaults. They're ready for a full-blown invasion."  
  
"So, we'll have to fight."  
  
"I'd rather not, but yes."  
  
"You sure you're ready for another war?"  
  
"I don't have a choice."  
  
"Then, we'll be ready. I'm heading towards the comm. room right now. The Military Counsel needs to know about this."  
  
"Right. I'll send troops to reinforce your defense lines."  
  
"Ah, maybe not that. My men don't like the zerg. Can't blame them."  
  
Kerrigan sighed. "All right. But we'll have to be ready to help each other. Let's stay united."  
  
"Right. Anyway, I'll need to go. Bye!" And with that, Raynor left the hospital room.  
  
Kerrigan took a deep breath after Raynor left the room. She had become weak and comfy, these past ten years. Collapsing under the loss of a few minions was a true insult for the one once known as the Queen of Blades. And with another war coming, she would need strength, or she and her troops would only be a dead weight. For the Swarm to regain its pride, she had to do something horrible: She would have to become the one she wanted never to be again.  
  
With that, she got up and wrote a letter to Raynor. It read like this:  
  
"Jim, my love. Curse me, but I truly have to go. With another war nearing, I will have to be ready. For that, I will have to curse myself to hell again. I need my old strength. Take care of Arthur for me. I love you.  
  
Kerrigan"  
  
Kerrigan closed her eyes and focused on one of the nearby broods she had. Breathing heavily, she ordered an overlord to come and pick her up. It arrived minutes later and took her. Kerrigan ordered the Overlord to go to Char. Four hours later, she had arrived.  
  
As the Overlord dropped her to the barren ground of the Zerg base, she ordered a drone to start to build a chrysalis. After it finished, Kerrigan stepped into it. With a tear, she waved goodbye to her terran life once more. Into this chrysalis, she rested, and her body started to mutate once more into the powerful being she had been...  
  
Kealer had just brought back the Observer back to his office. He took a deep breath. Inside of this machine resided the answer to his questions. Now, he would see the attackers.  
  
"Now, how do I work this stupid thing?" Kealer said to himself, as he started to examine the Observer. There were around ten different buttons, and he had forgotten to ask which one would show the images he wanted to see. He looked inside the "eye" of the observer, unsure of what to do. If he wasn't careful, he could even erase the images he wanted to see.  
  
"Stupid Protoss technology." Dan mumbled.  
  
"Try the button at the far left." A voice said in Kealer's head. He turned around and saw Kalis, who was walking towards him.  
  
"Oh, hey. How are you doing?" Kealer said, surprised.  
  
"Fine, thank you for asking. Now, if I remember well, this was the button I had to press to see the images." Kalis pointed towards the button at the far left. "Come on. Push it."  
  
Kealer nodded and pushed it. Immediately, holographic images popped out of the observer and filled the room. As Kealer looked around, he saw beings like he had never seen: They were slightly like Dark Templars, but their eyes showed bloodlust no Protoss ever had, and they didn't have a Warp blade. Instead, their fingers were their weapons of choice, as they quickly struck down the zealots and dragoons opposing them, cutting easily through their enemies' shields. Behind them were strange gray-skinned Ultralisks and carapace-covered zealots and Carriers.  
  
"Holy freaking shit!" Kealer blurted out as he saw the nightmarish attackers.  
  
Kalis pressed the button at the far right and the images faded away. He said, in a serious tone:  
  
"We stand no chance alone. We'll need your help, your technology, and the zerg's strength."  
  
"Right. What can I do..." He was interrupted as his comm. unit rang. He took it and spoke: "Kealer here."  
  
A shaky voice answered, "It's Raynor. Kerrigan's gone."  
  
"What? Are you joking?"  
  
"No. She left me a letter. She wants 'her old strength back.' Need I say more?"  
  
Kealer grunted: "Okay. Thanks for telling me. You okay?"  
  
Raynor took a deep breath and said, "I'll be fine. Don't worry." And he shut off the comm. link.  
  
Kalis spoke, "What was it?"  
  
Kealer grunted and answered, "Big trouble."  
  
"Like what, exactly?"  
  
"How does the return of the Bitch Queen of the universe sound to you?"  
  
Kalis' eyes widened. "I...see. I will have to report this to Praetor Artanis."  
  
"Do that if you want. Would you mind leaving? I'm having an important meeting tonight."  
  
"If you wish." And with that, Kalis left.  
  
After Kalis left, Kealer started hitting himself on the head. "Oh, man. Why must this all happen at the same time?"  
  
Artanis was having a serious headache with this situation. The assault, quick and unexpected, had sewed panic amongst the Protoss, and Artanis had a hard time keeping everything under control. It was so bad that he was starting to have trouble maintaining the link of the Khala among his brethren. Leading the Protoss alone was a very heavy burden.  
  
A communication interrupted his thoughts, "Praetor Artanis. This is Kalis. I have sour news from a meeting with the terran Kealer."  
  
"What news?" Artanis answered, intrigued.  
  
"It seems Kerrigan wants to be the Queen of Blades once more. She has deserted the terrans, according to what I have heard."  
  
Artanis shook his head. 'More trouble.' He thought. "What else?"  
  
"Nothing else of importance."  
  
"Very well. That will be all for now, Ambassador Kalis." The communication was shut off. Shortly after, another communication came. A technician said, "Oh, Praetor. An unidentified corsair is approaching Aiur. What shall we do?"  
  
Artanis asked, worried, "Has it answered our hails?"  
  
"Yes, and the one onboard wishes to speak to you personally. He's a dark templar."  
  
Artanis' eyes widened as he spoke, "A dark templar? Put him through."  
  
"Very well, oh Praetor."  
  
Zeratul's face appeared on the communications screen. He looked tense and thoughtful, as usual. He said, "En Taro Adun, Artanis."  
  
Artanis felt much better. 'Finally, some good news', he thought. He answered joyfully, "Zeratul? How are you, Dark Prelate? And come to think of it, why do you return to us now, after ten years?"  
  
Zeratul thought about it for a moment and answered, "A sudden inspiration. You look weary and tired. Why is that?"  
  
"You return to us at a rather inappropriate time. We have recently been attacked by unknown forces."  
  
"Zerg?"  
  
"No, definitely not. They looked like nothing I have ever seen before, yet they looked oddly familiar. They had definite Protoss traits. They are definitely stronger than us, though."  
  
"'A species of destruction is now here'..." Zeratul said to himself.  
  
"What?" Artanis said, intrigued.  
  
"Oh, it's nothing." Zeratul answered, uneasy.  
  
Artanis looked at Zeratul with suspicious eyes and continued, "I heard you speaking of a species of destruction. What do you know, my friend?"  
  
"Oh, nothing."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes I am, Artanis. You must have misheard."  
  
Artanis shook his head. "Maybe I did. I am most tired these days. I guess you were right: I can't bear the burden of leading the Protoss alone. Could you help me?"  
  
Zeratul nodded, "Of course. It is great to see you have reached reason at last, Artanis."  
  
End of the chapter 


	4. Chapter 4: Painful awakening

Chapter 4: painful awakening

The more Terry looked at John, the more he was amazed. His infested friend had incredible powers, somehow having both the brutality of the zerg, with the Protoss' psionic powers. "Incredible indeed." John replied, feeling Terry's thought while in front of him.  
  
Looking towards a dark hallway ahead, Terry spoke, looking at John, "I'll scout ahead. Stay here, okay?" John simply nodded. He turned towards Terry and gasped: his friend was gone!  
  
"Don't worry. I'm right here." A voice said. "I'm just cloaked. It's easier to scout that way. Now stay here. I'll be back in a minute." Seconds later, Terry had come back and de-cloaked, an expression of relief on his tired face.  
  
"We're lucky. There are no guards around." He said. Seeing John's face, he asked, "You okay?"  
  
John spoke, his eyes widened, "How about warning me the next time you do that? You say that I'm scary, but right now, you're the one freakin' me out."  
  
Terry, smiling, answered, "And to think you were saying that 'cloaking's for wusses' not too long ago..." He laughed a few seconds, but quickly stopped, due to the incredible echo of the strange walls. He then continued, "Hem, let's go, okay?"  
  
The two then started trekking down the corridor, carefully eyeing the environment around them. A strange detail caught their eyes: There wasn't a single door anywhere on the corridor.  
  
A few minutes passed, and John finally noticed a strange writing, high on a wall. When he showed it to Terry, the ghost simply shook his head and said, "Can't read that. Hell, I never saw that sort of writing before."  
  
But strangely, John was compelled to stare at it. The language looked strangely familiar. Suddenly, his eyes blanked out, and he stared in awe at the markings, which placed themselves into a word: "Thanatos". He blinked, surprised, and when he stared again, the letters had become unreadable markings once more. Looking under the markings, John didn't see a door. Seeing John's insistent stare, Terry spoke, "What's going on, John?"  
  
John didn't answer. Instead, he muttered under his breath, "Thanatos". His eyes widened, and in a psionic roar, he yelled, "THANATOS!" A door suddenly formed under the strange markings.  
  
Terry looked at the door and at his friend, his mouth wide open. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" He said, smirking. He then walked towards the door and crossed it, not without staring cautiously at the door, insuring himself that it wasn't trapped. He couldn't wait to enter. Something inside of him knew that whatever was in there was important, crucial. Yet the word wasn't really inspiring him any good. "Thanatos" was the god of death, in the old Greek mythology, hinting at the danger ahead. Meanwhile, John was in shock. How could he have understood the markings, and most of all, speak them out loud? Not to mention that he didn't even know or remember what "Thanatos" meant.  
  
Terry's voice suddenly snapped John out of his thoughts. "Hey, John, what are you waiting for? Come over here." John reluctantly followed, staring at the room before him. It was a massive room, with incredible patterns to the walls, with a throne at the end of the room. It had a deathly image carved on it, though, and was somehow scary.  
  
"Oh, my god..." John said, eyeing the room with excitement in his eyes. Even with its dark looks, it somehow had a strange, entrancing atmosphere. "Beautiful..." Terry said, as shocked as John. Suddenly, though, a voice came from behind them, surprising them.  
  
"A beautiful throne room, isn't it?" The creature spoke like the Protoss, but it had a strange accent in its voice, a little brutal tone that contrasted with his entrancing voice. "You can help me lead on that throne."  
  
"And why would we do that?" Terry said. He turned towards the one speaking to him, and yelled in surprise. The one before him was so horrid, and yet so beautiful... It had obvious zerg traits, as if he had been infested. No, that's not quite right. It looked more as if he had merged with the zerg. John turned to look at him as well, and had a reaction similar to Terry's.  
  
Seeing that, the being laughed and spoke again, "I know I may not be a beauty, but join me, to purge the Universe of our enemies."  
  
Terry shook his head. He felt as though someone was messing with his head. He answered simply, yet directly, "OUR enemies? Yeah, right. Thanks, but no thanks. We have our own causes to fight for."  
  
"And what would those causes be?" the being asked.  
  
"We are both soldiers of the Dominion, under the rule of Emperor Jim Raynor the first."  
  
The being didn't understand anything of what the man in front of him was saying, as he was staring with obvious envy at John. "You are ready, my servant. Now, join me." He said, oblivious to what Terry was saying.  
  
John felt entranced, his will slipping away, but he regained his senses, realizing that the one in front of him was manipulating him. Suddenly, he yelled, "NO! GO TA HELL, YA SCUM!"  
  
The being was obviously in shock. How could a being he had infested be so rebellious? "How dare you speak that way to your master, you puny imbecile?" He said. Suddenly, a psionic storm appeared where John had been standing seconds before. Seeing the danger coming, John had jumped into the air and now fell towards the strange being, which summoned a shield around him and repelled John's assault.  
  
"Know that I am Thanatos, insignificant fool! I shall NOT be insulted like this!" the being said, a crisped expression appearing across his face. His eyes became blood red, as he suddenly prepared himself to attack. John had stood back up again and was standing tall, his eyes showing pure, insatiable bloodlust.  
  
Meanwhile, Terry was simply in awe over the events. Seeing his friend and Thanatos' expressions, however, he cloaked and tried to find a weapon to help his friend with. A strange weapon was besides the throne at the end of the room. It was shaped like a scythe, with two ends of psionic energy. He went to pick it up as John and Thanatos started to fight.  
  
Thanatos charged ahead, throwing a psionic bolt at John, who swiftly dodged and slashed his foe with his claws. Thanatos laughed, as the claws bounced over his psionic shield. "You'll need to do more than that." Strangely, though, John smiled and slashed again, this time trying to focus his psionic energies as he had done back when he awoke.  
  
Strings of psionic energy quickly bolted from his fingers, bolting through Thanatos' shield. Thanatos teleported himself, as John's bolts pierced his shield like butter. He shuddered. How could that thing be so strong? How could it rebel itself against him? It just made no sense. Suddenly, he heard a faint footstep noise behind him and turned around.  
  
Terry was charging forward, with Thanatos' own twin-headed scythe in his hands. He jumped at Thanatos, with the swiftness of any good ghost, and tried to attack, but Thanatos teleported away again just in time, arriving in the air, over John and Terry. With angry eyes, he looked at both of his enemies. "What are those things?" He wondered, as John and Terry looked for him.  
  
Suddenly, a door opened at the edge of the room, attracting John and Terry's attention. "Now!" Thanatos thought, as he jumped at Terry. The well- trained ghost had heard and felt Thanatos coming, though, and he jumped aside, firmly holding the twin-headed scythe. He then attacked Thanatos, who dodged the strike with fluid movement. A loud roar suddenly echoed, attracting Terry and Thanatos' attention.  
  
A fierce battle was raging near the opened door, as John and a strange being were fighting. The being wasn't unlike the ones John had killed, except that this one felt...different. John didn't care, though, as he fiercely attacked the being, which dodged the attacks as though he was made of air.  
  
Suddenly, Terry felt a very sharp pain in his arm. Thanatos had noticed Terry's lack of focus and he had violently taken his weapon from Terry's hands, breaking his foe's left arm with a loud snap. Before the ghost could realize what was happening, though, Thanatos then plunged the weapon into Terry's chest, pulling it out seconds later, soiled in his enemy's blood.  
  
In a stare, Thanatos caught Terry's silent agony. The ghost had been trained not to show pain, but now, it was so sharp that he almost let out a scream. Taking a deep breath, he noticed that his left lung had almost been pierced by the strike. Gritting his teeth, he jumped at Thanatos again, hoping to take the weapon out of his foe's hands. It was no use. The latter had just teleported away.  
  
Now, Thanatos was just in front of John, and the other being had somehow disappeared. His weapon in his hands, he was even more confident now. A joyful, sadistic look appeared in Thanatos' eyes, as John stared in turn at his agonizing friend and at Thanatos. John suddenly charged at his deadly nemesis, this time with desperation as much as fury. Thanatos expected this, and tried to teleport, but noticed that he had used too much energy. He would need to rest before teleporting again. At this, he raised his weapon to block John's charge. Luckily, the weapon's power blocked John's attack and repelled him.  
  
Thanatos then realized what he had to do. He wouldn't be able to defeat his powerful creation alone. He psionically yelled a call at some of his underlings, who came running into the room, charging at the foe who dared to attack their master. Yet, out of nowhere, a strange psionic storm appeared, blocking their advance and hiding John from sight. When it faded away, John had disappeared, and when Thanatos looked at Terry, he had disappeared too. In fury, he roared, furious about letting the two escape.

-----------

Terry tried to understand what had just happened. As he tried to remember the facts, they seemed to slip away from his mind. All he remembered was a strange flash around John, as a three-fingered hand had picked him up quickly, before leaving the room, picking up John at the same time. How had they gone out of the room unnoticed?  
  
"Thanks..." Terry muttered, staring at the one carrying him. He was a Protoss, and his body was that of a high templar. He was tall and dark looking, especially strong for a high templar, with piercing eyes which held both fury and sadness.  
  
John, who was running alongside the two, spoke to the templar, "How about I carry him? You don't look like you're felling so well..."  
  
"Alright." The Protoss stopped, and John also did, taking a short break.  
  
Terry looked at his saviour. He had seen this dark silhouette before. He just asked, "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Tarrat. I am the leader of a Protoss tribe: the Salaha."  
  
It was then that Terry remembered where he had seen him. Being part of an extraction crew of Raynor's Raiders ten years ago, he and the rest of the crew had to neutralize both Tarrat and Duran to take Kerrigan away from a dangerous situation. But why was Tarrat helping him now?  
  
Tarrat was staring at John with pity and anger. "Those fools! How dare they do such a thing?"  
  
John didn't hear that, however, as he heard furious shrieks behind him. "Let's continue, he said. They'll catch up soon if we don't hurry."  
  
Terry and Tarrat both nodded. As John was about to pick him up Terry, the ghost merely shrugged off John's helping hand. "Don't worry. I'll take care of myself." The three then ran as fast as they could, with Tarrat sometimes leading them in strange hallways.  
  
A few minutes later, Terry, John and Tarrat had arrived out of the strange building, and they continued to run, until arriving at a small, well-hidden Protoss outpost. They were out of danger...for now.

------------

Dan Kealer was looking at his paperwork, feeling unable to take care of it. His dispute with Dr. Carsy was still fresh in his head, and all the events were giving him a headache. He went to his secretary. "Hey, Julie, could you ask Dr. Mary Carsy to head to my office when she'll have the time? Tell her it's important." Dan thought that he owed her an apology for his outburst earlier. He might as well try to be in better terms with the scientist-in-chief.  
  
Mary Carsy arrived ten minutes later, trying to look emotionless. With her blood-shot eyes, though, Dan could see she had cried. "Sit down." Dan said, trying to sound a bit friendly. He was still a bit angry because of her comments, but he calmed down. It was only part of the past, now.  
  
Dr. Carsy went straight to what she thought was the objective of this private meeting. "General Kealer, do you remember the DNA you sent me?"  
  
Dan was surprised that she went on that subject, but he listened to her report nonetheless, and she continued. "I told you that there were Zerg and Protoss molecules into that DNA, correct?"  
  
Dan nodded, unsure of where this was going.  
  
"I have made a mistake, sir. The 'Protoss' molecules weren't Protoss at all. Actually, for now, they are unknown to us. It has slight familiarity with the Protoss' DNA, which would explain the confusion. This is all I've found out so far. Is that all, sir?"  
  
Dan answered, a slight frown on his face. "Actually, I didn't want talk about that."  
  
In a cold, snapping voice, she spoke. "What did you want to talk about, then?"  
  
Dan was starting to feel a bit uneasy. "Well...it's just..."  
  
Julie burst into the room, cold sweat dripping from her face. "Sir, it's them."  
  
Dan swore out loud. The ones his secretary was talking about were the neo- confederates, a group formed of the last of the Confederacy's followers. They constantly looked for trouble, often trying to attack influent people or destroy patrimonial buildings, hoping to take the power one day. Luckily, though, their leaders weren't as great as they had been before, meaning that their attacks almost always flopped, and the people would end up seeing them as a good joke, but nothing more. Nonetheless, they were annoying, and judging by his secretary's scared face, Dan guessed that they were probably armed.  
  
The frightened secretary continued. "Th-they wish to speak with you. Shall I let them in?" Dan nodded, exasperated. They would always try and laugh at authority once in a while, hoping to destabilize the power. In pretty much everyone's opinion, they were complete idiots.  
  
Three tall figures entered the room. They looked like nothing more than stupid bums, laughing at Kealer, pointing their knives at him, not too far from Dr. Carsy's cheek. The scientist-in-chief spoke up. "Watch where you put these, you stupid morons!"  
  
"My, my, what do we have here...?" One of the bums said, staring at Dr. Carsy with sizeable interest. "How about supper tonight...with a real man?" He said, showing off his muscles.  
  
Seeing Dr. Carsy's exasperated expression, Dan spoke up. "How about buzzing off, if you have nothing better to do?" He could feel his pressure mounting.  
  
Another one continued, mockingly. "Oh, my. Big general Kealer wants a fight. Let's just hope you'll be in better shape than those people at outpost Star Ray. Say, is it true that you and John Stippler were old friends? It's gotta be hard to lose a friend, hey? Especially when you can't do anything about it, sitting in your office all day."  
  
They had struck a sensible chord. Dan wasn't about to take anymore of this. He lost patience and jumped at the three, knocking them down with swift, precise punches before they could react, a furious look upon his face. He then put his hand into his pocket, taking out a 9mm handgun. With a vein pulsing on his forehead, he pointed it at the neo-confederates and asked them to leave, trying to regain his calm. One of them stared at Dan's gun and panicked. He took his knife and tried to throw it at Kealer's arm, but he missed him and hit Dr. Carsy's shoulder instead.  
  
All of Kealer's anger went out, as he kicked the neo-confederate's face, sending him flying across the room. Seeing Dr. Carsy's bleeding shoulder, fury boiled in his blood. Why had they done this, those morons? As he thought, another knife passed centimetres from his face, missing Dr. Carsy by millimetres. He exploded in fury. "THAT'S IT! I'M GONNA KILL ALL OF YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES! DIE!!!" But luckily for the three, Julie timely burst into the room, accompanied by six security agents, who barely held Dan back, trying to calm him down.  
  
Meanwhile, Dan's secretary went towards Mary Carsy, whose shoulder was still bleeding. "Would you like me to take you to the infirmary, miss?"  
  
Dr. Carsy nodded, with the knife in her shoulder hurting her badly, and she followed her towards the infirmary. Before leaving the room, however, she spat at the ones who threw the knives, muttering insults under her breath, as the three were taken away from Kealer, who was trying to escape the guards' grip, roaring in fury.

-------------

Two days later.  
  
The last two days were a descent into hell for Kerrigan. She was losing her life, her mind. Why? Why had war returned to trouble her? Her soul struggled to get her to stop, to leave. But she had no choice. Yet even then, she fought the bloodlust. The more she fought the bloodlust, though, the more it embraced her. She was becoming the furious queen that she had been. In a small, desperate sob, she muttered two words, desperately fighting her own fate.  
  
"Forgive me..."  
  
Her emotions exploded in an echo of laughter, as the chrysalis holding her collapsed. In an echo of her former fury, the desire to kill returned, stronger than ever. Now, nothing held her back. It was time.  
  
On Char, every zerg was feeling it. In the central hive cluster, a loud laughter echoed, and everything stopped, as every being was now focused on one woman, whose loud, sadistic laughter echoed on the entire planet. "She" had finally awakened. The one who had mercilessly murdered so many of her enemies, the Queen of Blades, had returned...

End of the chapter

Author's note: Yep, it took me a HELL of a while to write this, and I can guarantee that it'll take another while before I post the next chapter. Not that I don't like to write, but I started chapter 5, and I already had to go back to the drawing board with it at least three times. Just to give you an idea.


	5. Chapter 5: A war in the making

A/N: Well, sorry for the long wait. But here's an important announcement: I'm starting up my own C2 community. It's called "The lions of Starcraft". If you think your writing would be worthwhile enough to be put in there, write to me or to one of my staff members and your demand will be taken into consideration.

Other news: Because I will be managing my C2, I won't be reviewing every story and chapter that comes out. I'll ask some of my staff to check the new stuff once in a while, though, so if you get a good review from one of my staff, then there's a chance your story could be added to the C2.

Now, for the chapter, the first part of it is my first attempt at making a first person view perspective. Tell me if you think it works.

Chapter 5: A war in the making

Staring at the golden, shining wall, I can't help but feel rage pounding upon each of my heart beats, rage at Thanatos, my "creator", as he called himself. What has he done to me? Was I like Terry before? I can't say that I can compare him to the ones in here. In this strange encampment, all the people look like ugly aliens, modeled after our "saviour", or so he proclaims to be. Who is he, anyway? My "friend" Terry seems to know him (but if I know him, why don't I remember anything? What's going on?). Punching the wall in front of me, I notice the strange glares of those aliens (called "Protoss" or "Salaha" by Terry, I don't remember which). One of them steps forward and speaks to me, in a psionic voice that's starting to give me a headache.

"Terran, please calm down. We must not awaken the fury of our enemies."

I couldn't care less about getting discovered by the freaks that turned me into what I was then. In fact, a part of me wanted to fight that Thanatos fellow again. Seeing my unfavorable reaction, the Protoss' eyes glared at me, puzzled. "Ferinas, why don't we get him to train with us?" Another Protoss asked the one in front of me, who answered, "Yes, brilliant idea. This terran's psionic strenght is great, but untrained." Looking at me, he spoke again. "Well, terran, what do you think?"

I nodded, wondering how exactly those people could train me. Quickly, though, I was in a small, cramped room, with a wise-looking being in front of me. Eyeing me with curiosity, he sighed, as though wondering what I exactly was. "Welcome, terran." His psionic voice was deeper than most Protoss', and I could feel his strenght and presence from where i stood. "Seems from what I heard that you have energy to spend." Malice appeared in his eyes, as though he was preparing to do me a bad prank. He continued. "Channel your power into a blade, if you may." He looked certain that I would fail.

Puzzled, I looked at my hand and focused my energies into it, trying to form a blade. Unfortunately, though, the energy refused to be contained, releasing itself as strings that almost pierced the walls.

The Protoss looked at me with awe. "What power..." he thought out loud. "Terran, listen to me..."

"Stop calling me 'terran', dammit!" I was annoyed. Terran this, terran that...Don't I have a name?

"Alright then...John, isn't it? My name is Lazertis, before you ask." He looked at me thoroughly, as if studying every part of me. "Your power is greater than you can imagine, easily exceeding that of a high templar. But that isn't much of a reference for a terran, isn't it?" He stopped for a moment before continuing. "Terry, your friend, seems to have great psionic powers, overaverage even for a terran ghost. But strangely, you exceed him on all counts, except for training, but that can be easily remedied. I'll make sure of that. Now, to begin real training, take those psionic channelers." He throws me two strange wristbands, assorted with little cavities. I put them around my wrists, and immediately I'm scolded by the old Protoss. "You are putting them the wrong way, John. Put them with the cavities facing in front of you. You'll understand later." I do as he says. "Good. Now, focus a bit of energy towards your wrist, and please, only a bit." He says, pointing towards the cracked walls. As I do so, small blades soar from the strange cavities, and immediately, I see why I had to put the cavities the other way; if I hadn't, my arm would have been sliced in half.

"All right. Now, let us see what you can do." The wise Protoss said, raising a staff.

Immediately, he leaped, and though I blocked his attack with my crossed blades, I could still feel his power pouring through the blades. Looks like I hadn't mastered the use of Protoss blades yet. Jumping high in the air, I extended my claw-like fingers, and suddenly, I lost control. I couldn't feel my body, I couldn't think; only the bloodlust of battle guided me, and I savagely leaped at the Protoss. Taken by surprise, he could only stare as I pierced through his staff, barely missing his head by inches.

I suddenly felt someone grabbing me by behind. "Goddamn it, John! Calm down!" Terry's voice boomed in my ears, as I struggled to get free. But strangely, my bloodlust was gone as suddenly as it came. Taking a deep breath, I stared curiously at Lazertis, and muttering that I was sorry, I was about to leave, until a powerful psionic echo rang through the room. Heck, I'm sure the whole building was shaking. Lazertis muttered, weakly, "They are moving..."

--------------------

Dr. Carsy looked at her door. Someone was there, obviously unsure whether to enter or not. "Come in." She said, hoping to encourage her unknown visitor to either enter or leave. The door then opened and in the room came the one man she didn't expect: Dan Kealer.

"Ah, hey..." Dan said, uneasy.

"Oh, it's you. The hearing's already over?" Dr. Carsy answered, surprised. Dan had to go to a disciplinary hearing, to answer about his actions towards the three neo-confederates.

"The hearing's over, and it seems no one will be punishin' me. Julie caught our conversation with those idiots on tape. You should have seen those assholes' eyes when they saw her advancing towards the military judge with that tape. The judge acknowledged that 'these people had looked for trouble', so, since I'm a general, I won't get anything close to a punishment. The three idiots, though, get six months in jail for 'attempt at intimidation on a military VIP'. Oh, and they get nine years for 'attempted murder'"

"Attempted murder?" The scientist almost fell from her bed. "What attempt at murder was there?"

"The second knife missed your head and mine by inches. Wouldn't we have been lucky, either you or I could have been killed, so the judge couldn't let that pass, since those neo-confederates always seem to look for trouble. I think that we won't have any problem with those morons for a while. Oh, and Mary...can I call you Mary?"

Surprised by the question, she quickly nodded.

"Thanks...anyway, how's your shoulder?"

"Oh, it's almost fine, general..."

He interrupted her, annoyed, "Call me Dan, not 'general'. Sounds too phony."

Smirking, she continues. "Well, _Dan_, it seems that it's probably fine now, but they'll check me up in an hour, just to be sure. Hey, I've been here for three days already, so they won't keep me here any longer; I already warned them."

"Eager to go back to work?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Oh, and what's this I hear about _someone_ asking everyone for a little toll to buy something for _an injured member of the staff_..."

Embarassed, Kealer scratched his head. "So, someone told you, hey?"

"Yes, and from your reaction, I see you bought something for me, didn't you?"

Muttering "crap, who told her..." under his breath, Kealer almost ran out of the room, but stopped, and said to Mary, "Well, we'll see that in an hour, when you'll have left this room."

"Fine, then." Mary said, looking at Dan with curiosity. "Why did you buy something for me, though? You don't do that, usually." Then, looking at him wit disgust, she said, "If it's to try to get me to go out with you, don't you even..."

Suddenly, an alarm sounded all around the room, and both felt their hearts stop for a second, as a voice echoed all around the military infirmary.

"Warning! Red Alert! All military personnel immediately report to their battle stations! This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!"

Blessing the gods for such a timing, Dan ran out of the room and was immediately greeted by a frail marine, who said, after a sharp salute,

"Sir! I have been asked to guide you towards the Comm. room immediately."

Quickly, Dan and the marine ran full speed towards the communications headquarters, luckily not too far from the central infirmary, and the communications officer immediately looked at Dan, his eyes showing nervosity and fear. A chaotic technical chatter filled the small, dimly lit room, with the lighting a bloody red because of the alert.

"General," the officer started, "You have arrived at the right time. Considering the situation, we were forced to call a planet-wide alert."

"What? You're the ones who did this?" Dan blurted out. "And why would you get the entire city, no, the entire PLANET, into a frenzy?"

"Hostile assault. We can't identify it yet." A technician suddenly spoke. "Captain. We have visual. I'm patching the images through."

Looking at the main communications monitor, most of the technicians almost screamed. Dan, though, recognized the ships from the Protoss observer's memory: these were the same beings who had attacked the Protoss outpost, and most likely, attacked Star Ray. Only this time, thanks to Mar Sara's reinforced security, they were about to get a warm welcome. "What's their ETA?" Dan asked.

Another tech, looking at his monitor, spoke in such a tone that he seemed about to faint. "An hour, maybe two." Looking at Dan, he added, "But tell me, sir: Are we about to die?"

"You've heard of the Brood War, right?" Dan asked, bitter. The tech looked at his screen again, embarrassed he had even asked this question. Dan continued. "You haven't lived that war, so you don't know how it was..." His voice then took a sarcastic tone. "...but lucky you! You have another one starting. Don't worry, though. Someone had to live through it to tell you about it, so you've got a chance of survival." Patting the tech's shoulder, he turned towards the comm. Officer. "Captain," Dan looked at the officer, "Patch me through to the boys' radio." The officer quickly typed in a few commands and passed the microphone to Kealer, who took it with a rough, serious look upon his face. Clearing his throat, he spoke, as all the soldiers of Mar Sara listened intently, turning their PCDs' volume higher to listen to the general.

"All right, you guys, get ready to get some of your steam off. Say bye to your families, bye to your lives, and bye to your souls. On the battlefield, you need none of those. The ones we're facing are the bastards who attacked outpost Star Ray, so just give 'em a warm welcome!" A loud cheer echoed through the hallways of the military command center. "Don't think you'll have it easy, though. These things may be stronger than even those goddamn zerg. Oh, and Jack, if you're hearing this, I'm still going to play poker with you tonight...that is, if you're still alive."

Turning the microphone off, Dan passed it back to the officer. The monitor turned on, and Raynor's face appeared into the screen. Never since the Brood War did he look so worried.

"So, it starts again..." He muttered, frowning.

"Yep. I guess you heard my little speech."

"Well, that and the alarms sounding everywhere." He tried to laugh, but Dan could see that the emperor felt more like crying. "Any news from Kerrigan?"

"Nope. Still don't know where she is. Think she'll attack us?"

"No. She's strong, but smart. Those new freaks are probably more than even she can handle, so she'll let us alone...for now, at least."

"I hope so..." Dan said, looking at the radar, and at the dots quickly closing in on Mar Sara. "We've got enough to worry about."

"Right. I'll let you do your battle preparations. Good luck...I'm counting on you. Raynor out."

The screen went black and Kealer took a deep breath. Looking at the captain, he asked, "What's their destination?"

"Fenixburg" One of the techs said. Kealer smiled. He then said, simply, "I'll take it from here."

Stepping aside, the comm. Officer looked at the general with worried eyes. Never in his eight years as communications officer had he ever seen such a serious, angry look in the face of the charismatic, joyful general.

Kealer sat down on the main desk and put on a little communications helmet, and he looked at the field. It was chaos. No organisation at all. Clearing his throat, he started putting his crew in order. "All right. ZD dropships, load your men and take them right under coordinates Z98, S23, E15. Battlecruisers _Duran_, _Tassadar, _and mother ship _Hyperion,_ take your fighters and put them in A-3 wing formation around those dropships. Battlecruiser _Daredevil_, you and your fighters will be the backup squad. DST Dropships, load Siege tank squadrons Zeus and Diablo and follow up. CW Dropships, pick up Goliath squadrons Frankenstein and Smurf, then catch up with the ZD dropships. Move it people! You've got one hour!"

-----------------------------

The alarms echoed since an hour in the city of Fenixburg, new capital of Mar Sara, and most people just ran like headless chickens, panicking. One man, though, caped in black, walked calmly through the crowd, his destination only clear to himself. Another war was starting. "Finally," he muttered, staring at the dropships evacuating the civilians, some of the patients of the civilian hospitals being brought in with wheelchairs. "Go away, cowards. Let the real fighters do their jobs." He had a strange, soothing voice, a French accent apparent in every word. Arriving in front of his house, he smiled, his face shrouded in black, his blood-shot eyes staring at the sky, more and more filled with a huge dark cloud. "Time for a fight."

Saying this, he entered his house, taking his once beloved rifle, and waited, his clandestine radio picking up the constant military chatter. He listened to the command chatter with interest. _"Enemy ETA fifty seconds."_ "_Battlecruisers_ _Tassadar_, _Duran and_ _Daredevil in position, fighters in formation, awaiting orders."_ _"Dropship squadrons ZD and CW in position, awaiting orders."_ _"DST squadron got loading troubles. ETA 10 minutes._" _"This is mother ship Hyperion. 15 minutes ETA," "Can't you get there faster? We need those fighters!" "Negative. Too far from the designated location." _"Fools" The man said to himself. "They're attacking an unknown enemy up front? Those idiots!" And so, he ran quickly out of his house, and went not to the escape dropship, but to the military training grounds. Swiftly, he stole a ghost's uniform from the unguarded lockers, before dashing towards the drop zone of a few dropships, which were evidently carrying marines. He maybe was officially a civilian now, but that didn't matter. It was war...

End of the chapter

A/N: Who's that weird fellow? How's the battle going to be? What the hell ARE those things anyway? Find out...when I'll feel like it. See ya next chapter! Oh, and within this chapter are little mentions about a few starcraft Fanfiction writers. If you can see all of them (there are 3), I tip my cap to you.


	6. Chapter 6: The hell of war

A/N: Time for something I don't seem to do often: a real battle! However, that doesn't mean that there won't be plot-twists. At the opposite, this battle is a perfect time to introduce new characters to the storyline. Oh, and anti-french people, be warned: one of the characters uses french terms in his sentences, and some of the things he says might be offensive to some people. However, be conscious that I do not try to mock the french with this. The character is not a representation of the french populace in general, and he isn't my view of the french either. He's just a character.

So, with this said, on with the show!

Disclaimer: Blizzard Entertainment Inc. owns Starcraft and all related properties.

Chapter 6: the hell of war

"All right, guys! Let's blast these morons to hell!" Sergeant Jason Garner said, as the _Duran_'s gunners looked at him, scared to death. Among them, while some muttered that their leader was crazy, Private Harold Bryer took deep breaths, trying to calm down. He looked at the sky. The space stations, said to be useless against such a large force, had been transported away, and the sky was blank, filling more and more with black buildings and ships. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a squadron of wraiths engaged the enemy, and soon, the battle began. Manning his turret, Harold sat in his seat, taking deep breaths again. Being assigned to one of the main mother ships was an honor few deserved, and he wanted to make the best of it. The sergeant took his radio, lifting his arm into the air, and seconds later, he formed a fist, meaning, in rough terms, "Fire at will!"

The young gunner quickly took aim towards one of the huge black ships, and wondered on its strange looks. A gunner besides him yelled out, surprised, "What the fuck? That's not possible. They're Protoss! But...they're infested? What's goin' on here?" Not thinking about his colleague's remark, Harold saw little objects fly out of the ship. Seconds later, another gunner, Jack Jenkins, yelled, "Shit! Those are scourges! Shoot those things down, Harold!"

Not waiting for his friend's order, Harold fired at one of them. Surprisingly, the shot bounced. "Psionic shields!" Jack said. "I'll help you with those." Switching his ammo to "piercing", he fired, and the little flyer quickly burst in two.

Taking his friend's example, Harold switched to piercing ammunition and fired at another of the little flyers, wondering why they were so dangerous.

One of them suddenly reached a wraith, blowing it to pieces. "Kamikazes..." Harold muttered, understanding his friend's concern. An alarm suddenly sounded in the battlecruiser. "Enemy intrusion at doors 05 and 07." A robotic voice said. The sergeant, troubled, cursed out loud. "Bryer, Jenkins, stop gunning! You're with me. We'll stop those critters. The rest of you, keep firing!"

Harold and Jack obeyed, picking up their SCM tactical assault rifles and putting on their CMC-500 suits. Sergeant Jason Garner was already all suited up and waiting. As a ghost, he had the advantage of light armor, which took mere seconds to put on.

"What are you two waiting for? We don't have all day. If you'd have lived the Brood war..."

Harold sighed. The sergeant was always ranting about living through the Brood War, getting his leg chopped off by an ultralisk on a diversion assault to extract the Queen of Blades from Char. He proudly wore an artificial cybernetic leg to prove the deed.

"You two finally ready? Go!"

The three started running through the hallway. Door 05 seemed clear, though the walls were full of scratches; it was obvious something had come through here.

"What's happening here?" Jack asked. "We're completely in the dark as to what we're facing. Are those Zerg or Protoss?"

"Can't answer you, Jenkins. That info's strictly confidential. I'm in the dark myself, and I'd be ready to bet that only two people know what's goin' on: General Kealer and Emperor Raynor."

"Why didn't they inform the rest of the people?" Harold asked, curious.

"To avoid total panic and to prepare a good explanation for the rest of the people, I guess." Sergeant Garner said. A sound echoed on the walls. Raising his rifle, Garner looked at the wall, where a dent had just formed. Signaling Jack and Harold to be silent, the sub-officer fired at the wall, and a creature shrieked in pain. It pierced through the wall. The creature was hideous. A glowing blue barrier, the same kind that Jack had called "Psionic armor", surrounded its dog-like body, covered in what seemed to be golden armor.

Immediately, it leaped at Garner, as though recognizing him as the one who wounded him. Its leap was stopped abruptly, however, as the trained sergeant cracked its skull with a strong whack of his rifle. "Not bad..." He muttered, a smile on his face. His reputation of being 'the most brutal ghost ever to have lived' was unquestionable. "I haven't lost my touch." Before he could celebrate, however, a dozen other beings leaped out of a wall behind them.

Jack and Harold began firing in unison, their shots bouncing off the shields of the strange creatures. Jack took a grenade from his belt. Harold tried to stop him, but too late. Jack threw the grenade into the pack, and the explosion made a hole in the battlecruiser's floor, as the external pressure pushed the ugly beings outside. The three terrans tried to hold on, but the pressure flushed them out of the ship.

Looking under him, Jack and Harold saw the strange beings trying to claw at them, though being too far away to do so, with Sergeant Garner sniping them quickly and efficiently. For a veteran of the Brood War, this was a breeze. Taking his radio, he quickly spoke, calm and direct.

"This is Garner. I'm currently at 5000 feet of altitude, not too far from the _Duran,_ and I need a lift right now. Anyone in range?"

"This is ZD-15. I'm at 3500 feet altitude. I can see you and your two pals, plus a few bandits. Nice sniping, by the way. Look under you." Jason did so, seeing a small dropship placed directly below him and his men. Looking at Jack and Harold, he said, "Watch it. It'll be a rough landing." The two merely exchanged worried glances, as Garner placed himself into a cramped position. Closing his eyes, Harold suddenly felt the dropship's ramp under his feet, and as it closed, he lost balance and fell on his knees. Looking besides him, he saw Jack hadn't done any better, landing directly on his butt, muttering something about "needing some training". Jason, however, was on his feet, and the other marines of the dropship applauded loudly, as though admiring the man's balance. Jason looked at the other two and spoke, a grin on his face, "You two okay?"

Jack nodded, an embarrassed smile on his face, and Harold merely shrugged. The suit had absorbed the blow, but his legs felt a bit numb. The dropship pilot spoke up. "You guys ok? We're about to land on the battlefield. ETA thirty seconds." Harold suddenly realized it. This dropship was heading IN the battle. General Kealer had said something about living hell. Well, Harold felt that he was about to see a bit of it today. Muttering senseless comments, Harold looked at his friend Jack, who was pale, yet determined. The pilot spoke again, "10 seconds...5...4...3...2...1...Get in there, grunts!"

The other marines in the dropship went out, yelling out a deafening battle cry, and Garner, with Jack and Harold behind him, quickly followed, rifle in hand. The sergeant was in his element; he started aiming at everything that wasn't human. Jack was also experienced, and he was dodging the enemy's shots quite swiftly for a full-suited marine, while retaliating with small rifle bursts. Harold, though uncomfortable, ran in the battle, ramming one of the dog-things, shooting its head with his rifle. "Good job." Jason said. "These shields probably only stop projectiles or small blows." Yelling as loud as he could to watch out, Jack pointed towards a few meters away. The sight there was just about enough to make him puke. At this place was a zealot...or what had once been one. Covered in a carapace and bulging veins, the warrior charged at Harold. Firing his weapon wildly, Harold only damaged its shield, but Jason gave the creature a good whack of his rifle, stopping his advance and making it fall to the ground.

"There. That should..." The sergeant was interrupted by a powerful stampede from behind him. Turning around, he saw a massive being, resembling an ultralisk, though its tusks were made of psionic energy.

"Oh, don't expect to get my other leg, you son of a bitch." He leapt in the air towards the massive beast, who suddenly switched his attention to this little man, who seemed confident enough to take him on. Slashing wildly, the beast only managed to hit air, as his small opponent was nimble enough to avoid his attacks, going through the shield with a psionic cutter, landing quickly on its head. Jason took a grenade, placing it inside of the creature's carapace, and jumped off, smiling as the grenade blew up its innards. Landing besides Jack, he fired at the "zealot" who had taken Harold as a target. Its shield was down, now, and Jason's first shot burst through its skull. Looking around him, he took his radio. "Garner to _Duran._ Answer, _Duran._" A few seconds of static later, there was a reply. "This is the _Duran_. What's happening, Garner? How come three of your guns are empty?"

"I went to take out some of the critters that went into the ship with two of my men. I don't know if we got them all, though."

"Well, get back to your stations. Other than a hole in the floor and the wall of hall B-12, there was nothing wrong, according to our scans."

"Negative. There were over a dozen critters in the walls of hall B-12. Me and my guys took 'em out, but there may be others. As for the hole, one of my men did it with a grenade."

"What? How'd you survive?"

"God bless power suits. We were sucked out, and a dropship caught us. Then, he gave us a lift down on the battlefield, and that's where I am now. Now, be careful. We don't know how many of those critters are left, and I'm warning you: They're strong. Like zerglings, but a lot stronger."

"Roger that. _Duran _out."

Jason, looking at his suit, found the cloaking, activating it and going back on the battlefield, praying that those things didn't have sensors with them...

"Goddamn it, Harold! Stop moving like a wuss!" He yelled, and the enemies looked in his direction, frowning...They couldn't see a thing. "Bingo." Jason muttered. Raising his rifle, he quickly sniped one of the zealot look-alikes, and the others looked at their dead comrade in panic, and suddenly, they looked at where Jason was, and leaped towards him.

Ducking under the first one's attack, Jason saw what was going on: A strange glowing mass, probably their version of an overlord, was right over him. Cursing his luck, he leaped out of the way of the four other "zealots", but the first one slashed towards him...before being abruptly cut off in two.

"What the..." Jason started, and was interrupted by a thundering war cry. Thousands of zealots were rushing into the fray, and it was one of them that saved him. Quickly getting up, Jason was about to raise his rifle and charge again...until he noticed that he had dropped it when leaping. He looked around, trying to keep calm, and there it was, a few meters form him. Taking his military scalpel, he ran towards it, but a "zealot" look-alike landed in front of him.

"Out of my way!" Jason yelled.

Smirking, the "zealot" smiled, raised a strange blade...and dashed behind Jason, attacking an unseen foe. Taking his chance, Jason leapt at his rifle, picked it up, and went back into the fray.

Meanwhile, Jack and Harold, hiding in a home-made trench, were attempting to hold off as many enemies as they could, assisting a marine corps. Taking heavy casualties, the Corps welcomed the two with open arms. Suddenly, Jack stood up, while spikes protruding from the "zealots'" chests flew all around him. He was tired of sniping. He was going in there...

Before Harold could stop him, Jack was into the fray. Taking a standard-issue military scalpel from the ground, Jack charged towards a "zergling", quickly landing on top of the beast and slashing its throat. A yell echoed from behind him, and he jumped, dodging a psionic blast by an inch. "Watch it, Jenkins! You don't have to die today." Jason said, jumping off of the remains of a strange machine, strangely reminiscent of a dragoon.

Suddenly, a chorus of blasts echoed through the air, familiar blasts... "The siege tanks arrived!" A marine yelled, as the powerhouses started blasting at the strange beings. "Woo-hoo!" Jack yelled, shooting like a madman at the approaching monstrosities, as the siege-tanks took out the heavier ones at the back. The battle seemed to finally go the way of the terrans...

"Die, you goddamn bitches!" A voice sounded, in the distance. Jack, slightly recognizing the voice, turned around to see who yelled, and the sight turned his stomach upside down, as the one in front of him was no other than John Stippler, one of his old friends... only this time, he looked as though he was nothing other than an atrocity. A man was besides him, and before Jack could recognize him, a spine crashed in a wall millimetres from his face. Turning around to shoot at the enemy, Jack glanced around at his old friend...but he was gone.

----

"Out of the way!" A man yelled, amongst the chaos of battle. He wore a ghost uniform, but no one could recognize him. No one had been there when he was in the army, back in the day...

His pale face and brown hair, coupled with his piercing eyes and prominent teeth, could make some think of him as a vampire. Jumping around the battlefield, sniping enemy units as though it was child's play, the man laughed and mocked his opposition every second he could. "_Touché_!" The man said, sniping one of the zealot-like beings in between the eyes. Calls from HQ arrived every second, asking for identification, but he didn't care. All he could feel now was the bloodlust, the pure adrenaline rush of battle. It had been long...too long. Soon, though, he landed in front of a man, someone familiar...

"Terry!" the man cried out. How foolish he had been not to recognize him. He had been one of the other Extraction crew members of Raynor's raiders, back in the end of the Brood War. But slowly, he realized it: Terry had been in star ray back during the attack of the space outpost, and according to rumors floating around, his old friend was missing ever since. What was happening here? Terry turned around and went back to battle, telling him only one thing telepathically: "not now"

Dodging one of the swipes of an angry ultralisk-looking creature, the man jumped on its head, cutting its vertebral column in half with his military scalpel. Trying to look at his friend again, the man noticed that Terry had disappeared.

"Will you just identify yourself, you stupid moron?" An angry yell echoed from the suit's radio. General Kealer was trying to communicate with him since a while, and it was starting to test his patience, at the point that he was now yelling over the communications device.

The man laughed and said, as though putting an emphasis on every word, "Elite specialist and ghost operative Hugo Rellon. How's it going, Dan, _l'imbécile par excellence?_"

A choking sound echoed on the other side of the communications device, and Dan spoke again, obviously irritated, "You stupid bastard! What are you doing here? You're retired! Let us do the fighting."

"I never decided to retire. You forced me to do it, supposedly for 'unacceptable conduct'. Every citizen has the right to take up arms, Dan. Respect that right."

There was a short silence. "Fine. Get yourself killed if you want. It'll only rid the Universe of a stupid, reckless moron."

"I'm reckless, but at least, I'm not stupid enough to attack an unknown enemy up front. I took 'strategy and tactics' class in the academy, and you just went to 'firebat training'. I'm still puzzled as to how you became a general..."

"Shut up!" Kealer's voice was annoyed and angry, now. "Listen. If you want to be fighting out there, fine. But keep talking for 2 more seconds, and I'll have you court-martialled, believe me."

Hugo smiled. Little Dan hadn't matured one bit... "_Touché_!" He said, shutting his comm.unit off and leaping back into the fray. "Come on, where are you...?" He said, looking for Terry. He was so distracted that he was almost run over by an ultralisk-like creature. Luckily, though, a well-placed tank shell put an end to the beast's rampage and snapped Hugo out of his thoughts. A strange, inhuman voice sounded behind him. "Look out!" It said, before pulling Hugo to the ground, as a volley of spines flew over the two's heads.

Hugo looked around and saw a face...A face he had seen before...But how could it be? Wasn't he dead? What happened? "Frank!" He yelled on top of his lungs. "What happened to you?" His brother Frank, also a ghost, had been reported MIA shortly after the fall of the Confederacy, being part of the Sons of Korhal before. But here he was again, alive, though obviously changed. His body looked as though it was infested by...something, covered in a thick carapace and bluish skin.

Before either could say anything, though, a powerful blast split them apart. The man, with cat-like balance, landed back on his feet and returned to the fray. "Decidedly, this is full of surprises. First Terry, then Frank..._Qu'est-ce qui arrive_?"

----

"How's the battle going?" Raynor asked, as if dreading the answer.

Kealer cleared his throat before answering. "The enemy's in direct combat with our ships. We've got calls asking us what's going on from pretty much everybody. We even got calls about some of our enemies attacking each other. Whatever the case, the battle's going as well as it could ever go. The tanks arrived as heavy support and the zealots Artanis sent are a precious help. The enemy's being pushed back."

"Do they seem to evacuate?"

"Most of them do, but a few don't. They're as proud as Protoss. The ones who stay'll fight to the last, if you ask me. I'm surprised this is going well, though. I thought it'd be a massacre."

"The element of surprise, I guess. They probably thought that the whole planet would be easily taken, and they didn't bother sending silent assassins as they did before. Don't forget they only fought three soldiers in the outpost, so an intricate and powerful army took 'em by surprise."

"Any news from Kerrigan?" Raynor said, cold sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Nope. My guess is that she's sitting out of this one."

A communication from the battlefield interrupted their thoughts. "HQ, this is specialist Terry Lonk, reporting for duty. Do you hear me, HQ?"

Dan suddenly smiled. "Terry! You're alive! Where the hell were you? And where's John?"

"It's a long story, and believe me, I can't explain it right now. I'd like to request immediate shelter and support for me, John and the people who helped me out."

"Granted! But who helped you out?"

"You won't believe me even if I tell you."

"I can believe anything right now."

"The Salaha tribe."

"Say what?" Dan said, choking on his cup of coffee. "Those...disguising freaks? I hope that's not your idea of a joke..."

"It isn't, I swear."

"But if that's true...they're Protoss criminals! We'll be forced to turn them in."

"But..."

"Listen, Terry. You're not in my position right now. I like the fact that they saved you, and I wouldn't mind sheltering them if we wouldn't have a Protoss Ambassador that's actually the guy who first arrested them, believe me."

"Shit! Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"Sure as hell. They're accused of multiple murders. Actually, I don't know if we'd be safe ourselves sheltering them..."

"They aren't psychopaths! They saved me and John, for Pete's sake!"

"Yeah, but why?"

Terry grunted. "Listen. All I know is that those things we're fighting are worst than you think. Don't expect to have it easy with those guys."

"Sir!" A tech yelled.

"What is it, helmsman? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"It's an emergency. Enemy force appearing at coordinates O55, F15, A28!"

"What? And the long-range sensors?"

"Didn't spot 'em. They're cloaked..."

"Goddamn it! They're trying to flank us! Get backup squadrons Gold and Jupiter to those coordinates."

"And their ground units? We have none to spare...They're all on the front."

"We shall aid you, terrans." Tarrat's voice echoed through Terry's comm. unit.

Kealer could feel cold sweat pearling from his own forehead. "All right, go ahead. Get those bastards good, though." He roared. Turning to the technicians, he spoke, in a nervous tone. "Patch me through to Ambassador Kalis. I have to have a chat with him."

----

"Hey, what's going on?" A marine said.

Another said, enthusiastically, "They're retreating! It's over!" Cheers followed that announcement, but Harold looked at Jack, who shook his head. "No, it's far from over." He said, looking at the others, "Turn your heat-vision on."

Though a bit confused, the others did so, and almost immediately, a scream of terror was heard. The medic who yelled said, nervously, "They're attacking the city! They're cloaked!"

"I just knew it! This was too good to be true..." Jack said. "Come on, let's go!" He continued, looking at Harold and the other soldiers. "Let's stomp 'em!"

"Don't forget about me." A familiar voice said. Jason appeared in front of them. "I want some fun in this too, Private."

Jack smirked. "All right, Sarge. Oh, and whoever's behind us, train your silent running. I heard you coming a mile away."

"Sure you did." A voice said, behind him. A pale-looking ghost materialized, smirking. "How've you been, _mon ami_?"

"Hugo, you son of a bitch! What the hell are you doing here?"

"No time to explain. Now, let's just hurry up! I want to kill as many of those assholes as I can. _Vive la mort et la gloire_!"

"You DO know you're the only one who speaks French around here, don't you? Try not using that language too much."

"_D'accord, espèce d'enfoiré._ Now, let's go!"

Thus, they all started going towards the city of Fenixburg, as the rest of the ground forces tackled the remains of the creatures' main assault front...However, strange silhouettes followed them, hidden in the shadows. One of them was John Stippler...

----

"Is it wise to go now?" A psionic voice echoed.

"You question my orders?" Kerrigan answered, irritably.

"No, of course. It's just that you've been gone for so long..."

Kerrigan looked at Araq, anger flaring in her eyes. "I know what I'm doing." She took a deep breath, and issued her order. "Attack!"

End of the chapter

A/N: Don't worry, the things said in French aren't too important. It only adds a bit to Hugo's...personality. Anyway, I want your feedback on this battle, up to date. Too big? Not big enough? Too cheesy? I WANT FEEDBACK!


	7. Chapter 7: Battle's end: a war begins

**Chapter 7: A battle ends...but the war's just beginning**

The soldiers dashed quickly inside of Fenixburg, looking at the great capital city…and its even greater threat. Some of the soldiers looked as pale as death. One of them blurted out, "My family…can't let 'em die like this…" Hugo slapped the soldier's helmet. "Hey, you idiot, they're evac-ed already…"

"Shut up, they're right in front of us!" Jason yelled. The soldiers silently moved behind a building. Harold looked at the enemies through heat-vision goggles. "Fifty, sixty at max…" Jack shrugged. "Can't believe how sadistic they are…sending cloaked troops to attack civs…goes against the laws of war." Hugo smirked. "Bah, they're probably just testin' us here. How much do you bet that those guys'll bail out the second they see us arriving?"

Harold was about to answer to that, but he was cut short when he saw something in the distance. Hugo looked at the sky, where overlords, mutalisks and guardians started to mass. "Zerg…" He said, almost smiling. Harold cleared his throat. "Hey, aren't they…our allies?" Jason laughed. "Them, our allies? Supposed to be." A firebat shrugged and prepared his flamethrower.

Jason took a deep breath and adjusted his radio. After audibly clearing his throat, he spoke, "HQ, this is Sergeant Jason Garner. We have cloaked enemies in front of us, near Fenixburg. Believed to be part of the enemy attack force. Also confirming Zerg massing up near the city. Awaiting orders."

The radio crackled to life. "This is HQ. Please repeat." Jason frowned. "This is Sergeant Jason Garner. We have cloaked enemies in front of us and Zerg right over us, dammit!" Jason heard a few surprised exclamations from HQ. "Sergeant, we do not detect any Zerg signatures near Fenixburg. Is this a joke?" Jason cursed out loud. A mutalisk was barely a few hundred meters over him.

A man uncloaked besides him. Tall, his skin a pale white, he took a deep breath before speaking. "Relax, Sergeant. I'm taking over right now." Jason frowned. "What the hell are you talking about? And who in hell's name are you?"

Hugo smiled and looked at the man. "So, Terry, what's going on?" He asked telepathically. The man didn't even look at him as he answered, again through his thoughts. "Hugo, I need to shut that idiot up. I'll explain later." Hugo grinned and walked forward, while Jason was almost yelling at Terry. The angry sergeant was interrupted, though, as Hugo took him by the collar and slammed him against the wall of the building behind which they were hidden. He smirked and started twisting Jason's arm. "Sergeant, we're tired of hearing your stupid voice. _LA FERME!_" He yelled angrily. Jason started muttering curses under his breath.

Terry was about to say something, but stopped as the ground under him shook. "What the…" His eyes widened. Jason suddenly heard a technician's voice in his comm.-set. "Sergeant, we've detected the Zerg force. Get far away from Fenixburg; reinforcements are on the way!"

"Get your hands off me!" He yelled at Hugo. The ghost looked at Terry, who nodded frenetically. Jason looked at everyone. "We're getting outta here! Go towards the hills behind the city!"

No one needed to hear that twice. Everyone started going away from the city, and Terry had his fist raised in the air, like a signal. Jason saw that and cursed out loud. "Stop that, you goddamn moron! You want them to follow us?" Jack grinned. "Just what we needed." He was looking behind him, at a group of hydralisks that had suddenly turned away from the battlefield to follow them.

"Go, go, go! We gotta lose these critters!" Jason yelled. He looked forward and smiled. Siege tanks and goliaths were moving in towards Fenixburg. Jack had a wide smile all over his face. "Reinforcements!" He yelled. The others nodded, but their race was cut short by an ultralisk, whose tusks were only meters from the terrans. Wordlessly, they all drew their weapons and aimed it at the beast. Terry took a deep breath. "What are they doing? They should be here right now…" He said, looking around.

Suddenly, the Ultralisk started screaming in pain, surrounded by strong psionic storms. It struggled to get free, but it was too late; soon it fell to the ground, burnt to the very core. "Come on, _on se dépèche!_" Hugo said. The hydralisks behind them were getting closer. "Get out of here, all of you!" Terry said. He turned towards the hydralisks and turned his heat-vision on. He smiled. "John, Tarrat, I'm leaving them to you." Two of the hydralisks nodded. Terry smirked. "How does it feel to be disguised as an hallucination, John?" The hydralisk shrugged and turned back to the battlefield. "Now, be careful; the Zerg aren't pushovers." It nodded and dashed back into battle. Terry turned around and followed the other terrans.

Captain Firley, leader of Jupiter squadron, looked at the battlefield, tense. "What are Zerg doin' here?" He asked. "They're…wrecking the city?" One of the wingmen asked, seeing an ultralisk crash through a house. "All right, Jup squadron. Let's give those things hell." Captain Kenny Firley said, "Those are OUR houses down there." He added. The two other members of Jupiter squadrons answered in unison, "Roger that, Jup-leader. Jup 1 and 2, engaging."

As he engaged the Zerg, Captain Firley noticed something strange…"Hey, what's goin' on?" the squad leader asked, looking around. Hydralisks and Zerglings were attacking…each other? "Did Kerrigan just go insane or something?" He looked at his radar…the Zerg and the terrans were the only ones left in the radius of the city. "What the…where'd our targets go?" Someone asked. Lieutenant Firley looked at his radar…there was still one unknown signature left in the radius of the city. He looked for that last one. Suddenly, he spotted it. It was unconscious. He took a deep breath and spoke. "Unconscious bogey at 12 o' clock. Prepare for…"

Unfortunately, he was suddenly interrupted; a hydralisk had just fired a spine towards him. It hit the right wing of his wraith. "SHIT!" He yelled, trying to maintain balance. He looked under him for a second. There were Zerg everywhere. Taking a deep breath, he took a pistol from his pocket and pressed on the "eject" button.

John looked at the crashing wraith and its pilot, under the disguise of a hydralisk. He looked at the disguised Tarrat, who looked at the wraith and shook his head. Taking a deep breath, John said, "Drop my disguise. That pilot won't trust a 'Zerg', or whatever those are called, protecting him." Tarrat shrugged, and John was soon dashing towards the wraith pilot, undisguised. The Zerg tried to lash at him, but he was so fast that no claw or spine managed to hit him... "haha…so that's what he meant by focusing my energies in my legs…" he thought, blessing the advice that Tarrat had given him back as they had arrived... He soon arrived to the point where the pilot landed. The ejected seat was right in front of him, but where was the pilot? A Zergling suddenly charged towards him, and he deftly jumped to avoid it. Then, he spotted him. The pilot. He was only a few meters away, but he was surrounded by Zerg, a small firearm the only thing protecting him from the ravenous beasts. The hydralisks and Zerglings surrounding him, strangely, were just standing there…It was like they didn't want to attack him. As they saw John, however, they charged in unison…in the opposite direction. Actually, the Zerg were all rushing away, away from the city and on overlords. 'They're…leaving?' John thought.

"Phew…glad that's over." The pilot said. "Looks like they were our allies after all." His legs were a bit wobbly. He chuckled and sighed, obviously relieved. However, as he saw John, he leapt back in fear. "Wha-what are you?" He asked, hesitant.

John shrugged. "I'm one of you…or rather I was." Captain Firley raised an eyebrow. 'One of us? Yeah, right…' The trained pilot took his pistol and pointed it towards John, his hands shaking. Before he realized what was going on, though, John had slashed the pistol in half, his claws missing Kenny's face by inches. John grinned and looked at the pilot. "Terry had a similar face when he first saw me like this. You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

He then had a good look at the pilot's face. His eyes widened. Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind; the image of the same man, standing in a different uniform, his face looking much younger… "You…" John started. The pilot took a deep breath. His whole body was shaking now. Another image flashed through John's mind; A hangar. The man was there, climbing in a wraith, a look of panic on his face.

John shook his head. "…that hangar…" Kenny breathed heavily. "Wh-what hangar?" John gave him a cold glare. However, before he could speak, a vulture bike stopped between the two, with Terry in the driver's seat. "Let's go!" He yelled, pointing towards the back of the bike. John nodded, got to the back of the bike and sat down. "He-hey, what're you doing?" The bike sped off, John giving Kenny one last pensive glance.

Kenny's radio crackled to life. "Jup-leader, this is Jup-1. Come in, Jup-leader!" Slight chuckles were heard in the background. Kenny looked above. His wingmen were lowering their altitude, almost directly over him. He sighed. "This is Jup-leader. Hey, you guys, I know you're laughing your asses off, but how about calling me a freakin' evac?"

Looking at the speeding bike, he frowned. That being's face looked strangely familiar…

"YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Dan yelled. "DO YOU REALIZE THE DAMAGE YOU DID TO THE CITY?" Kerrigan, communicating through the monitor, sighed. "Those buildings were in my troops' way." Seeing Dan's anger, she sighed. "Am I supposed to care about your stupid homes?" She grinned, "I got what I wanted, so who cares if a few straw houses go down along the way?"

Dan took a deep breath and suddenly raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Kerrigan stayed silent, though giving Dan an amused look. He repeated his question. "What do you mean, 'you got what you wanted'? ANSWER ME!"

Kerrigan shook her head. "For a general, you really don't know how to act diplomatically." Kerrigan's mocking tone made Dan clench his fists in anger. "Besides, _general, _I don't have to answer to you." She added, coldly. Dan shrugged. "Then, this discussion is over."

Kerrigan chuckled. "I agree. Goodbye, stupid terran." She concluded, shutting off her side of the communication monitor.

The monitor was turned on again, this time showing a marine. "Sir, that ghost's back. He's got some…thing with him." Dan shrugged. "Let 'em in." He took a deep breath and walked out of the room, leaving behind a buzz of comments from the technicians.

Just as he came out, he saw Kalis, his arms folded, a strange glow in his deep blue eyes. "Don't worry." Dan said. "I'll watch 'em carefully." Kalis nodded and spoke telepathically, "I don't want them killing more innocents, neither Protoss nor terran…" Dan shrugged. "Me neither, man. Me neither." Waving the Protoss Ambassador goodbye, he walked towards the exit of the command center. While walking, he saw a window. He stared at the city of Fenixburg; at the far east of the city, some crumbled houses and buildings were still smoking. "Damn you, Kerrigan…" He muttered. "DAMN THIS WHOLE STUPID WAR!" He yelled out loud, punching the wall of the hallway. Tears almost filled his eyes when he thought of the people who'd now be homeless… hopeless… like he had once been.

_Twelve years ago…Mar Sara, Backwater station_

Dan was partying around with the other soldiers of his base. His promotion to the rank of Corporal had gotten everyone into a joyful mood; booze was flowing, people were singing and laughing, and the station's second-in-command, who had improvised himself as barman, was mixing and serving drinks frenetically, a wide smile on his face. He loved mixing drinks. In fact, when a marine just wanted beer, he laughed and called him a wuss.

Dan was playing pool a bit, some of his friends playing cards right besides him. "Hey, guys," Dan started, "Look at this!" He put a can of beer on his head. "I bet I can nail the 8 with that can on my head!" Already, people around him started betting. "Betcha 5 credits that he nails it." "10 that he misses." "25 that he spills the beer all over his shirt."

Dan laughed. He was about to speak, but suddenly, a marine, the only one assigned to guard duty, came bursting into the room, making Dan jump in surprise, spilling the beer all over himself. One of the marines laughed. "Ha! What did I tell ya?"

The marine shrugged. "Damn it, guys! Party's over!" He yelled. The second-in-command smirked behind the bar. "Hey, bob, who're you kiddin'?" He pointed towards a seat at the bar. "Wanna drink? You can have a bloody mary if you want."

The marine shook his head violently. "No, no…I'm not kiddin', you guys! Come out and look at this!" He pointed towards the sky. Dan walked towards the academy's window and stared outside, wondering what could be wrong. Immediately, he saw it; Chau Sara was on fire! His eyes widened. "oh HELL no…" He said, clenching his teeth. He ran outside, pushing the marine aside, and stared at his home planet, dumbfounded. He was speechless. This couldn't be… "mom, dad, Christie…" He muttered. The patrolling marine walked outside, followed by most of the soldiers who, a few seconds ago, were still partying and laughing. All of them remained silent. They knew that this young rookie was from Chau Sara, knew that his parents and his girlfriend were there, probably burning alive...and so they watched this man's whole life burning away right in front of him. Dan started yelling as loud as he could, cursing everything from his luck to his life, barely holding back his tears of pain…until they flowed out of his eyes like a river of sadness…

The following hours passed like a blur. Alarms echoed through the small base. People carried Dan and shoved him into his uniform. Some alien species was attacking, but he didn't care about anything anymore; he barely even moved, giving only a mere shrug while most of his comrades were torn apart by the species he'd later know as the Zerg. He even remained emotionless as some Marshall named Raynor arrived to rescue the base's survivors. Even if he were alive, his soul was dead…he'd lost his family, his love…Sadness and anger was all he had left…

Dan shrugged at those painful memories. He didn't have the time to be sentimental. He looked outside again and took a deep breath. He continued walking on, realizing that this war was just beginning…

Kerrigan smiled and patted a Zergling's head. She turned towards what it had brought back. In a chrysalis lay one of the Thanatians, unconscious. The Queen of Blades twisted her lips in an evil smile. "Rest while you can…my new minion…"

End of the chapter

Author's note: I know, I know, I took a LONG while before updating. Sorry about that. I'll try getting faster...a LOT faster...but I'm also working on another little Starcraft fic. Might post it here soon.


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